Discovering Myself
by cheeky-chaos
Summary: An AU version of Season 3. Sydney wakes up in Hong Kong only to find the world she knew is now gone. But as her memoried come back to her, she has sto decide if she really wants things back to what they used to be. Eventually Sarkney.
1. Waking Up

Disclaimer: The story lines and characters of Alias do not belong to me. I'm just playing with them ;). Parts of the first three episodes of season three have been used in the beginning of my story, but I didn't think of them. (Unfortunately!)  
  
Author's Note: This is my version of season 3, starting from the moment Sydney wakes up in Hong Kong. It's a bit slow in the beginning, because I do follow the series for a bit. I hope you will bear with me...it does go AU after a while. Cheeky.

* * *

**Discovering Myself  
Part One:  
**  
I blinked slowly as I took in the sights around me. I felt so tired. I blinked my eyes again in an effort to stay awake. I vaguely felt the cold hard ground beneath me, but it didn't register in my muddled brain. My head felt like it was filled with cotton wool.  
  
Gradually the muffled sounds around me got louder and feeling returned to my limbs. I don't know how long I lay there, but finally I was able to focus my eyes. I was looking up at a flickering neon sign.  
  
I heard the distant roar of traffic and somewhere close a cat meowed. I felt gritty concrete underneath me and took a deep breath. Then I carefully tried to sit up. I just managed to as the world spun and faded for a moment. Once that had passed, I tried to get to my feet, but I was too weak. My muscles felt like jelly.  
  
I slumped back down to the ground and looked around in the flickering red light. Where was I? It looked like a dingy alley. How the hell did I get here? The last thing my sluggish brain remembered was collapsing after fighting with Allison Doren.  
  
Allison.  
  
Memories rushed through my mind. The frantic fight with Allison. Will in the bath, looking dead. Vaughn planning our trip away. And then nothing. I had no idea how I had gotten here.  
  
I tried to get up again, and just managed to do it without passing out again. I had to call the CIA. I staggered out of the alleyway and onto a busy street. I felt cold all over. I wrapped my arms around me as my head spun. I looked around in horror at the flashing neon signs. They weren't in English. Where the hell was I?  
  
As I turned and staggered down the street, I tried to meld in with the crowd as best as I could. Absently I listened to the hub of conversation around me and realised I didn't even know what time it was. I guessed from the dark sky and amount of people on the street it was close to midnight.  
  
Words floated over me and I recognised the language. Cantonese. I listened to the conversations, hoping to pick up more information. Like where I was. And when I heard it, I almost stopped dead in my tracks. Hong Kong. I was in Hong Kong.  
  
I finally found a payphone and gratefully banished all the questions from my head. My dad and Vaughn would be worried sick. Not to mention Weiss, Marshall and Dixon. I grabbed the phone and dialled a number that had been burned into my brain. "Dispatch." Said a bored female voice on the other end of the line.  
  
"This is officer 2300844 calling for connection." I said. "Confirmation: looking glass."  
  
"Stand by." Said the woman.  
  
"This is Kendall." Said a familiar male voice.  
  
I felt a rush of relief at the sound of his voice. Everything was going to be alright. "I just woke up in Hong Kong." I blurted out. "I don't know how long I've been here or how I got here."  
  
There was complete silence on the other end. "Hello?" I asked after a minute, hoping Kendall was still there.  
  
"Get to our safe house at Ching Chau Way as quickly as possible. You remember how to get there?" Kendall said, his tone almost harsh.  
  
"Of course I do." I said.  
  
A bad feeling was beginning to curl inside my stomach. What the hell was going on? My instincts told me there was something major going on, and I trusted them.  
  
"I'll make sure they're expecting you." Kendall said.  
  
"Okay." I replied, hanging up the phone.  
  
I felt confused, apprehensive and frustrated. What was going on?

* * *

A while later, I looked up at a dingy apartment block. The safehouse. Cautiously, I knocked on the door. An Asian man, appearing to be in his early 30's opened the door. He nodded once and stepped aside to let me enter.  
  
I followed the man up a flight of stairs and into a small room. "Have they said..." I began, my voice rough and hoarse.  
  
I paused for a second and cleared my throat. "Have they said anything about how I got here?" I began again. "Do you know any..."  
  
The man cut me off. "You should wait for information until your contact arrives."  
  
He came to a door and unlocked it. He nodded at me and I walked in. There was a bed in one corner and two chairs opposite it. A lamp stood on the bedside table. The man closed and locked the door behind me with an ominous click. It was all too much for me. I walked over to the bed and collapsed on it. I was asleep within seconds.  
  
I don't know how much later it was when I woke up, but I didn't particularly care. I ran a hand through my hair and noticed absently it was longer than I remembered. I got up and began to pace the room, trying to not think about what all this meant. Waking up in Hong Kong. Kendall seeming surprised to hear from me. My longer hair.  
  
At that, I stopped pacing. What else had changed about me? I ran my hands over my arms and legs, but nothing felt different. That was good, right? I reached for the bottom of the grimy turtleneck I wore, intending to take it off, but what I saw stopped my cold. There was a 3 inch jagged scar just beside my navel. What..? I traced the scar with my fingertip and shivered. What the hell had happened to me?  
  
At that moment, the door opened and I saw Vaughn. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see anyone else in my whole life. I smiled and walked over to him, before throwing my arms around him and holding him tight. Tears slipped down my face as I thought of the ordeal I had been through over the last few hours. But now everything was going to be alright.  
  
But Vaughn was slightly stiff in my arms. I pulled away and looked at him. And then I pushed the thoughts aside. He was probably just worried. "They doubled Francie." I said.  
  
"I know." He replied.  
  
I pulled away as a multitude of questions burst into my mind. "What happened to Will? To Francie? Are they dead?"  
  
"Will's okay."  
  
"What?" I demanded. "How?"  
  
"You..." Vaughn began. Then he looked at me sadly. "Sit down."  
  
I sat down on one of the chairs, a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Vaughn sat opposite me, but he wouldn't look at me. He seemed at a loss for words and stared at the floor. The feeling of dread grew stronger. "Vaughn?"  
  
"We thought you were dead." He said flatly, still refusing to look at me. "They asked me to come back here to...to explain."  
  
Explain? What the hell was he talking about? Something was wrong. Very wrong.  
  
"Come back from what? What are you talking about?" I demanded.  
  
Vaughn finally looked at me, before rubbing his face with his hand. The sad look in his eyes scared me. Then something glinted in the dull light. Something gold. A wedding ring. A wedding ring on Vaughn's left hand.  
  
"Vaughn...why are you wearing that ring?"  
  
The feeling of dread in my stomach grew to gut wrenching terror. I wanted to scream and curl up into a little ball. But I wouldn't. I was stronger than that.  
  
"Syd..." Vaughn began. "Since that night...you were missing. You've been missing for almost two years."  
  
Bloody Hell.  
  
Tears began to slip down my face. The shock, the see-sawing emotions...it was all too much. The tears turned into quiet sobs as Vaughn told his story.  
  
"There was a fire in your apartment." He said softly. "Will survived, but you...they found remains." I heard the pain behind his words and the tears streamed faster. "The DNA was a match. You were dead." He shook his head slightly. "You were dead." He repeated.  
  
"And...you got married?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer.  
  
"I did."  
  
I looked away and tried to stop the tears. I was tough, damn it. Surprises were part of my life. I could handle this.  
  
"They asked me to come to Hong Kong. The Agency...they thought it would be best if you were introduced by someone from your life before." Vaughn said.  
  
"They could have sent my father." I said. "He's CIA, he's from my life before."  
  
And at that moment I needed my father like I hadn't needed him since I was a little girl. I wanted his arms around me. I wanted him to tell me this was all a bad dream that everything was going to be alright.  
  
"I can't answer that. I chose not to stay with the CIA after your death." Vaughn told me.  
  
His answer hit me like a blow to the stomach. Not with the CIA? Then why hadn't they sent my father? He never would have quit the CIA. He would be able to explain everything. I felt a jolt of fear run through me. He never would have left the agency – unless had left trying to find me...with Mom.  
  
"You're not with the Agency?" I echoed to Vaughn, my mind whirling with thoughts of my father.  
  
"No." Vaughn shook his head. "I'm a teacher."  
  
At his words, I stood abruptly and turned away from him. My life was falling apart around my ears. "This is, um...gonna take me a while." I said softly.  
  
"They want me to bring you back." Vaughn told me. "I mean, you can imagine the kind of investigation being called."  
  
And I could. Vaughn stood up and faced me, sympathy and sadness in his eyes. And suddenly everything made sense. This wasn't real. Vaughn wasn't real. This was just some sick and twisted plot by Sloane to get to me. But it wasn't going to work.  
  
"Hell of a way to wake up." I said. "How much time do I have before I have to go?"  
  
Vaughn looked at his watch, and I took my opportunity. "They said they want you back..." his words were cut off when I grabbed the lamp off the bedside table and hit him with it.  
  
The lamp smashed on the side of his head and he slumped to the ground. I wasted no time. I grabbed the lamp cord and looped it around his neck, my knee in the small of his back. "I don't know who the hell you are," I snarled. "But you are not Vaughn you son of a bitch!" My voice rose to a yell and I heard the anger and hatred in my tone. "Tell me who the hell you're working for! Is it Sloane?" I demanded.  
  
Vaughn struggled to get up and managed to dislodge me for a second. But I kept a grip in the cord, before dragging him up and slammed him against the wall. I noted absently that I had grown stronger as I tightened the cord around the bastard's throat.  
  
Vaughn loved me. He would never marry someone else. And I wasn't dead. Allison was and this was just Sloane's sick attempt at revenge. He was trying to break me by taking away everything I'd ever cared about. But it wasn't going to work.  
  
"Tell me you're working for Sloane!" I snarled.  
  
Suddenly I heard someone outside the room. I slammed my elbow into the side of 'Vaughn's' head, knocking him out. He fell to the floor with a dull thud. The door opened and a man in a suit ran in. I kicked one of the chairs at him, my instincts and training taking over. Adrenaline began to pump through my body. I kicked the door shut, trying to buy myself some more time and kicked my attacker again. I punched him in the face, breaking his nose, and he dropped to the floor.  
  
I whirled around, searching for a weapon and saw 'Vaughn' getting to his feet. I kicked him in the stomach, sending him back to the ground. I burst out of the room and began sprinting down the corridor beyond. I had to get out of here.  
  
I burst out and found myself in a dark alleyway. And cornered by two men in suits. I looked at them and the guns in their hands, as they looked at me. I dropped down onto one knee, my hands in the air. Surrendering. Or at least appearing to. One of the men holstered his gun and went to grab my wrists. Big mistake. Did they really think I would give up that easily?  
  
I grabbed the man and shoved him into his partner. I looked around and the alley for a weapon, but the men ran forward, forcing me to concentrate on them. I looked for guns, and was surprised to see they weren't holding them anymore. Interesting. That meant they had been told to take me alive. I would use that to my advantage.  
  
The first man punched me, but I blocked easily, sending him reeling with a roundhouse kick to the head. The other darted in with a punch-kick combination. I blocked both, before spinning away and giving him an elbow to the face then swept his legs out from under him. The adrenaline surging through my blood made me stronger and faster. I was already the better fighter, and even against two of them I was still going to win.  
  
The first man attacked me again, this time with two round punches. I avoided the first and ducked under the second, coming up and breaking his arm in a quick move. The man cried out in pain and I kicked out his knee. He sank heavily to the dirty concrete of the alleyway. I knocked him out with a carefully placed elbow to the back of the head as I felt a foot connect with my back.  
  
I staggered forward and spun, catching the second kick in my hands and giving the leg a savage twist. The man grunted in pain and I gave him a kick to the gut, followed by two punches to the face. He blocked the second punch and lashed out with one of his own. I ducked under it, grabbing him around the back of the neck and slammed him against the wall. He dropped to the ground, unconscious.  
  
Before I could do anything else, I heard a shot and felt a sharp pain in my right shoulder. I reached for it and turned, seeing the red feathered dart sticking out from my skin...and Vaughn, his dart gun still aimed at me.  
  
A wave of dizziness washed over me as he approached. The world grew fuzzy. "Don't...don't..." I began, but I couldn't get my mouth to work.  
  
I sank to my knees and winced as my head began to spin. I gritted my teeth. I had to stay awake. I had to...  
  
Vaguely I heard hurried footsteps and the sound of a gun hitting the concrete as I collapsed. Arms grabbed me and the world went black.


	2. Back in America

**Part Two:  
**  
Slowly, the world began to intrude upon the darkness. My mind felt fuzzy, but awake. Sounds were getting louder but still sounded far away. My eyelids fluttered as I tried to open my eyes, but I was still too weak. I groaned softly. Damn it! This was the second time this had happened to me today – and I was starting to get seriously annoyed.  
  
Gradually my tired brain began to sort through the sounds. I heard quiet, interrupted by a rhythmic beeping. The sounds got louder, and I heard a car engine, church bells and a police siren. The sounds made no sense. Where was I now?  
  
I finally managed to open my eyes and waited as they focused. I squinted at the bright light, before stirring slowly as feeling returned to my arms and legs. Then I almost jumped when something gave off a loud electronic siren. I turned toward the sound and saw an electronic monitor. What the hell..?  
  
Just as I realised I was in some sort of hospital, a familiar figure rushed into the room and switched off the monitor. Dixon. I felt a rush of relief followed by a feeling of apprehension. Where was Vaughn?  
  
I looked at Dixon, searching his face for answers. But it remained as impassive as ever. He sighed. "You're safe. You're at the Stafford Naval Hospital. You're home again." He said.  
  
I felt confused and scared and the feelings grew as Dixon continued. "Sydney, there are no words to make this easy. It _was_ Vaughn who came for you in Hong Kong. And what he told you was the truth."  
  
I sat up in bed, ignoring the nausea and dizziness I felt at the abrupt motion. "Dixon...what happened to me?" I asked, and hated the fear in my tone.  
  
Dixon looked at me. "We don't know." He said finally.  
  
Suddenly all my questions bubbled to the surface. I hated feeling so out of control, not knowing what had happened to all those I cared about. "Where's my father? Or mom...have you heard from her since Mexico City?" I demanded. "Vaughn said Will's still alive? If there was a fire in my apartment, if he thought I was dead, how did Will survive? And...and where is he?"  
  
"Sydney..." Dixon began, but I rushed on.  
  
"And Francie...is she dead? Did they find her body, too?"  
  
"You have a million questions," Dixon said. "I understand..."  
  
"I have a lot more than a million questions!" I broke in. "I wish I only had a million questions!"  
  
"You're going to have to be patient..." Dixon began.  
  
"I can't be patient!" I snapped.  
  
Dixon looked at me. "I'll talk to the..."  
  
"I woke up like it was one night!" I growled, frustrated with Dixon, with his refusal to tell me what was happening with the whole situation. "I have a scar on my stomach that I've never seen before! You're telling me two years have past and I have to be patient?" My voice had risen all through my impassioned speech, until I was almost yelling, but I didn't care.  
  
"Listen to me, Sydney!" Dixon said. "You have to relax."  
  
"I think I deserve to know what happened to the people in my life!" I shot back. "Where the hell is Kendall? I want some answers!"  
  
"Kendall is not the director of our division anymore." Dixon paused, and looked me straight in the eye. "I am...almost six months now."  
  
I was so surprised, I forgot my anger for a minute. "Congratulations." I said warmly.  
  
Before I could say anything else, the door opened and Weiss walked in. He looked slimmer and more confidant than I remembered. "How ya feelin'?" he asked me.  
  
I plastered a pleasant smile on my face. "I'm okay." I said, but I could see he wasn't convinced. "You look great...you lost weight?"  
  
"Oh, thanks. Yeah." Weiss said. "I sorta gave up all the foods I enjoy. I'm miserable, but I look really good."  
  
I gave him a friendly smile, happy to see him, which he returned. Weiss looked at Dixon. "Uh, we got something." He said.  
  
Dixon turned to me. "I need just a minute. Excuse me." He got up and left the room, but Weiss lingered for a minute.  
  
"Sorry to be all cryptic..." he began.  
  
"It's okay." I said. "I get it."  
  
Weiss followed Dixon out of the room, and I saw the two of them standing outside the glass door. As I stared at them, they began to talk, and I couldn't help myself. Driven by a desire to find out more about what was happening to me, I began to follow their conversation – by reading their lips.  
  
"We received a transmission an hour ago from Mr. Kingsley. He got the package and the decoy." Weiss was saying. "He's on schedule, aboard a train to Avignon."  
  
Weiss handed Dixon a folder. I had no idea who this Mr. Kingsley was, but I kept 'listening' anyway. Weiss continued talking. "We've received Intel that the Covenant may be moving to intercept Kingsley and get the chip."  
  
The Covenant? Why did that name sound so familiar?  
  
"And we can't reach Kingsley?" Dixon asked.  
  
"No, he's radio silent." Weiss replied. "But we do have a new lead – an address outside of Paris; a possible outpost for the Covenant."  
  
Now that was interesting information – and information I could use. I had a feeling that this 'Covenant' definitely had something to do with my disappearance. I could use this.  
  
"Contact the SNCF." Dixon ordered. "Have them stop the train at the next station and have them recheck Kingsley's ticket. He'll know to make contact."  
  
"Done." Weiss said.  
  
"And get a team in prep." Dixon added. "I want to raid this outpost."  
  
Weiss nodded slightly and walked off down the corridor. Dixon came back into the room. I pasted a smile on my face and tried to keep my emotions under control. "I have to get back." Dixon said.  
  
I nodded. That suited me fine. I had to do some serious thinking anyway. But first, I needed to see my father. "Dixon, I want to see my dad."  
  
Dixon's face grew serious and I got a feeling of dread in my stomach – a feeling that was getting all too familiar. "What's the big deal?" I asked warily.  
  
Dixon walked up to my bed. "Your father's in prison."  
  
I felt shocked as his words sunk in. Could anything else in my life fall apart? Was there anything left? My dad was in prison?  
  
"The National Security Council has had him in solitary for almost a year." Dixon explained. "There policy, without exception, is that he is to have no visitors."  
  
I sank back down onto the pillows, my mind whirling. A minute later, Dixon left, but I barely noticed. My father was in prison, Vaughn really was married and I really had been missing for two years.  
  
Tears slid down my face, but I angrily wiped them away. I had to be stronger than that. I had to think of a way to see my father. He would help me figure out what had happened to me, and what to do with the mess that was once my life. An hour later I finally let myself sleep, a plan forming in my mind.

* * *

The hospital room was dark when I woke next, but I was careful not to move or open my eyes beyond slits. Weiss was asleep in a chair beside my bed, and I didn't want to wake him yet. It was now or never.  
  
Suddenly I gasped loudly and sat bolt upright in bed, and was pleased to see Weiss wake up and almost leap out of his chair. "What? You okay? Syd?" Weiss asked, concerned.  
  
I looked at Weiss, my expression serious. "I think I know...oh my God..." I whispered before allowing my voice to get louder. "I think I know where I was!"

* * *

I walked along the familiar corridors of the CIA headquarters towards the Joint Task Force office, Weiss walking beside me. I was once again dressed in one of my black business suits, except it wasn't really one of mine. It was new, a gift from Weiss, since the rest of my clothes had been destroyed in the fire.  
  
I took a deep breath to quiet the butterflies in my stomach. "There are so many new people." I said, trying to distract myself from what I was about to do. "I don't know anyone here."  
  
"Oh, just give it time." Weiss said.  
  
Then I heard a familiar and much missed voice behind me. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Hello?"  
  
I turned and saw Marshall. He looked just like I remembered, as if he hadn't changed at all. I couldn't keep the smile off my face.  
  
"Hi, Sydney? Uh..." Marshall raised his voice and enunciated carefully, as if I didn't understand English. "I'm Marshall Flinkman. I work here. Tech design and, uh, operations."  
  
My smile broadened and I gave Marshall a warm hug. "Marshall." I said. "Of course I know who you are."  
  
I felt so much better when Marshall hugged me back. Not everything had changed in my life. I still had friends who cared. "Oh my God, Sydney! It's so amazing to see you, I can't even really relate!" Marshall exclaimed as I let him go. "Actually, I, uh, wrote a...poem...uh, um."  
  
Marshall cleared his throat before continuing and I felt so happy he hadn't changed. "I've lost my keys...where are they?" he began to recite.  
  
"Sydney?" said another voice behind me.  
  
I turned and saw Carrie. "Carrie!" I exclaimed and gave her a hug.  
  
And felt an unusual bulge where her stomach had been. "Welcome back!" she said warmly.  
  
"You're pregnant!" I blurted in surprise and looked at her belly.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I am." Carrie said, clearly proud and delighted.  
  
"I, uh, wonder who the father is?" Marshall said.  
  
I looked at Marshall and then at Carrie, surprise soon turning to delight. They made a great couple. "Congratulations." I said. "Are you guys married too?"  
  
"No." Carrie said.  
  
"Not yet." Marshall added.  
  
"No." said Carrie, firmly. "We're not married."  
  
"We just haven't set a date yet." Marshall said.  
  
Carrie turned to him. "We're not even engaged. We're just having a kid."  
  
"Well, we're talking about getting engaged..." Marshall added hopefully.  
  
"Not really..."  
  
Marshall turned to me. "Well, uh, she just has an issue with wedlock."  
  
Before I could say anything, Weiss interrupted. "Syd, Dixon's expecting us."  
  
"If you need anything, just ask, okay?" Carrie told me, and I nodded gratefully.  
  
I smiled at her. "Thanks."  
  
"I've lost my keys, where are they?" Marshall recited again. "It's, uh, a metaphor." He explained.  
  
Reluctantly, I turned to follow Weiss to Dixon's office, shooting Marshall an apologetic look. "Sorry." I mouthed at him.  
  
When we entered Dixon's office, I saw he was accompanied by a middle-aged man with a balding head and the look of someone who worked behind a desk. "We'd like to hear about what happened last night." Dixon said, without preamble.  
  
"I had a memory; a vivid memory of the interior of the building where I was being held." I said. "I know that it was in Paris and I remember the faces of at least three captors." I had expected to feel guilty at lying to my friend's face, but strangely, I didn't. All I had was a nagging feeling Dixon knew a whole lot more than he was telling me.  
  
"Mr. Weiss' report says you recall overhearing voices, names, uh, including Mr. Kingsley?" said the unknown man.  
  
"This is Robert Lindsay." Dixon introduced, when I raised my eyebrow in question at him. "He's our NSC liaison."  
  
I nodded my greeting to him before continuing. "Yes, so far that's all I remember." I said.  
  
"Sounds like the group we're looking for is the same one that was holding our girl." Lindsay said. "Last night there was a mass murder on a French passenger train. Among the dead was a CIA asset – Scott Kingsley."  
  
Dixon handed me a folder. I opened it and looked at the photo of a stranger. "Kingsley did engineering work for us." Dixon said, breaking into my thoughts. "He designed an aircraft; a spy drone that could fly undetected by radar."  
  
"Kingsley was en route to Avignon to deliver the schematics. They were stolen." Lindsay added.  
  
"And this drone could be converted to a delivery system." Weiss said.  
  
I nodded. "Biological weapons. Chemical weapons. I get it."  
  
"This group, we know almost nothing about them." Dixon told me. "They refer to themselves as the 'Covenant'."  
  
The Covenant. There was that name again. I felt that same sense of familiarity I had had before. Whoever they were, they were definitely involved in my missing two years.  
  
"We have some new intelligence identifying one of their outposts." Dixon continued. "We believe this is where they've taken the chip. We're planning on sending a team to Paris to raid the building."  
  
"Look familiar?" Lindsay asked as I looked at the schematics and photos in my folder.  
  
"Yes." I said quietly.  
  
"See, we're going in with or without you. Lindsay continued. "Without you we're blind. You might recognise details we wouldn't even see otherwise."  
  
"I'm personally of the mind that sending you into the field so soon is asinine." Dixon said.  
  
"Well, Mr. Dixon," Lindsay said turning to him. "You might ask yourself just how much you want to apprehend these killers!"  
  
I could see Dixon getting angry as he yelled over Lindsay. "Don't question my resolve! What you're suggesting is premature..."  
  
"Perhaps if you'd listen to what I'm suggesting!" Lindsay yelled back. "Certainly not that we throw Ms. Bristow back into the field..."  
  
"Look, I've experienced trauma myself." Snapped Dixon. "Returning to the field prematurely is as dangerous as not being trained at all!"  
  
I could see that the two men didn't like each other, but this was too much! They were bickering like a pair of school boys. "Okay. Excuse me!" I said, interrupting them. "But I'm standing right here!" I turned to Lindsay. "I think I might be helpful in Paris. But I'm not going to even consider going unless you help me first. I want to see my father – right now."  
  
"Ms. Bristow, just so we're clear." Lindsay told me, his tone sharp. "I have no intention of doing your father one single favour – ever. That being said, it's not your fault he's your father, and I'm not without heart as you'll come to see. I'll get you in this one time."  
  
I felt something within me harden and struggled to keep my expression blank – but I managed, since it was a skill I had perfected during my time at SD- 6. Anger burned in my stomach. I decided right then and there that I hated Lindsay. I would never trust that bastard with anything.  
  
"Thanks." I said, my voice expressionless.

* * *

Weiss drove me to the prison and I was silent the whole way. I just had nothing to say. I had to get my father out of there. Somehow. I needed him. Guards led me through a maze of gates and bars before leaving me alone in a small room. One of the walls was made of glass and a table and chair sat in the middle of this my half of the room. I simply sat down and waited.  
  
I got up as soon as I sat the door beyond the glass begin to open. I walked towards the glass and bit my lip when I saw two guards escort my dad into the room. He looked tired and dirty, but still as strong as I remembered him – despite the chains at his wrists and ankles. His hair had grown and he wore it in a ponytail behind him. He also had a long, scraggly beard. But he was undeniably my father. Strong, proud and defiant.  
  
"Sweetheart." He said. "You look so beautiful."  
  
I felt tears fill my eyes at his warm, familiar voice. "They told me you were charged with resisting authority." I said. "Dad, I...I don't understand."  
  
"I became obsessed with your death." My father explained. "With finding those responsible. And at a certain point in my pursuit, I needed help. So I contacted the one person I believed I could trust, given the circumstances – your mother."  
  
"You were working with mom?" Despite everything I was glad for my parents – even if it had taken my death for them to get closer.  
  
"At the time, she was number six on the CIA's most wanted list. The National Security Council – primarily Robert Lindsay...have you met him?"  
  
"Yes." I said flatly, even coldly.  
  
"He discovered that I was collaborating with your mother, so he threatened me, questioning my allegiance to this country." Dad explained. "He chose to make an example of me – an NSC power play – and here we are. I was told you have a memory? That you believe you were being held in Paris?"  
  
Carefully I slid my fingers to my watch and over the cool face until I found a small button. I pressed it. "It's an anti-eavesdropping device." I told my father. "I got it from Marshall. We have 90 seconds. Dad, I don't remember a thing."  
  
He looked at me, confused and surprised. "What?"  
  
"I read Dixon's lips when he was talking outside my hospital room. I just made it up to get leverage. And...and now they want to send me on a mission!"  
  
"Leverage?" Dad asked. "For what?"  
  
I spoke softly and quickly. "To see you. They told me I couldn't see you and...I needed to. Dad, I don't know if I can explain what it's like waking up and having everything be different. My friends are gone and I have no job, I have no home and Vaughn's married. You're in prison..."  
  
"Vaughn what?" my father asked.  
  
"He got married." I said and felt a wave of pain and sadness wash over me. Vaughn was married...  
  
"Michael Vaughn is just a boy who was never good enough for you." He said firmly. "Anyway, Sydney, listen to me. My investigation into your death became even more disturbing that I expected. You must continue my work and find the truth about what happened to you. Do you understand me?"  
  
"Yes..." I said but he interrupted.  
  
"The only way you can do that is by getting your CIA clearance restored, having access to my private files, getting back out..."  
  
"Dad, I don't think I can do this without you!" I said desperately.  
  
I needed my father. I needed him to put his arms around me and tell me everything was going to be all right, that this was all just a bad dream...  
  
"We both know that's not true." He said. "And you have no choice anyway. The CIA, I'm certain, is dubious about your return. Somehow you must get them to trust you again. If they learn you were bluffing about your memory, it's all over."  
  
"Dad, what did you mean the investigation was disturbing?" I said, as I remembered my father's words.  
  
"Sydney, I knew you were alive." I sucked in a sharp breath as he paused for a second. "I made a discovery that you need..."  
  
He trailed off, his expression anguished as my watch beeped, signalling the end of the 90 seconds. My expression mirrored his. "You probably don't know this, but I love you." He told me.  
  
But I did. I always had. "I love you too." I said as the guards came in to take him away.  
  
I watched him leave, my emotions in turmoil. I felt so alone. I had to get my father out of there. He was the only person I could trust to help me completely and to help me keep my secrets. Because I didn't doubt that I had some. I just had to find out what they were. 


	3. Life Has Changed

Author's Note: I have to apologise to everyone, but our favourite bad guy won't be appearing for a little longer...I know, I'm sorry. But I just felt the need wait until Sydney had found out just how different her life was before Sark comes back and screws it up even more. But he is in this story. Cheeky.

* * *

** Part Three:  
**  
The trip to Paris had been quiet and uneventful. I had kept to myself in a corner of the plane and no one had intruded. No doubt because they didn't trust me. I didn't blame them. I had been missing for two years – who knew what I had been up to? Weiss was now debriefing us before the operation. I was putting on a pair of gloves while I tried to figure out what I was going to do. It was too much to hope I had been there before.  
  
"The object of tonight's mission is to find and retrieve the microchip, and also to acquire any Intel about the organisation known as the 'Covenant', who we believe is in possession of the chip." Weiss was saying. "We've had the building under satellite surveillance. It appears to be abandoned, but there are no guarantees."  
  
Weiss nodded at me. "You've all met Agent Bristow. She was held prisoner in this building. So while I will be leading the operation, we will take into consideration any warnings or insights that Agent Bristow has to offer. Any questions?" he paused, but there were none. "Let's go!" He ordered.  
  
Everyone piled into the waiting van and we took off, heading towards the mission site. Weiss looked at me with concern. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah." I said and flashed him a reassuring smile.  
  
I wasn't. I was still reeling from waking up to a completely different life. And my plan to rescue my father was falling down around my ears. I spent the rest of the ride in tense silence, trying to quite my nerves. As soon as we arrived, we all piled out of the van, with Weiss yelling "Move, move, move!" I looked at the dark warehouse in front of me and took a deep breath. This was it.  
  
"Retriever to base." Weiss was saying into his headset. "We're in position. Any last minute fun?"  
  
"That's good to hear." He said again after a moment.  
  
Then Weiss looked at me. "Hey, any of this look familiar?"  
  
"Not yet." I said flatly.  
  
"Uh, negative." Weiss said into his headset.  
  
Since no one was sure they could trust me, I wore no headset, and had no way of listening to what was going on – and all my replies had to be repeated. I didn't like the feeling of not knowing what was going on.  
  
"Okay guys, her we go." Weiss said. "Let's keep an eye out for trip wires and watch your backs...c'mon."  
  
I followed Weiss as the team split up. We crept through the dark interior of the warehouse, our guns at the ready. "Hey remember this?" Weiss whispered after a moment, as we crept down a dark hallway.  
  
I was spared from answering when I heard Weiss whisper into his headset. "Yeah, go base."  
  
He listened for a moment. "Retriever to team, be on the alert for possible hostiles, quadrant sixteen, heading towards quadrant nine."  
  
Weiss listened again, as I assume Dixon gave him more information. "Team, we now have five possible hostiles." He said. "Let's get ready to engage."  
  
At his words, I tightened my grip on my gun and stretched my senses out even further. We both turned the corner and were suddenly fired on by two dark figures with laser sights attached to their guns.  
  
I ducked back around the corner, Weiss on my heels. "Base, we're under attack. We're under attack!" he said.  
  
Then he turned to me. "Let's split up and take 'em from behind."  
  
"Okay." I agreed.  
  
Weiss fired his gun at the hostiles around the corner. "Go!" he yelled.  
  
I went. I turned and ran back the way we had come, slowing once I had turned the corner. I walked cautiously down the new corridor, my gun in front of me. I heard gunfire in the distance, as other members of the team were attacked.  
  
I soon entered a darkened room that looked like some sort of laboratory. I found a dark figure in the ground and as I moved closer, noticed it was a dead team mate. Suddenly two hostiles burst into the room, shooting and yelling. My instincts took over as I ducked behind a table before returning fire.  
  
As I waited for a pause in the retaliating gunfire, I noticed some large brown bottles on the table beside me and got an idea. I returned fire as I thought about it. I covered my mouth and nose, before throwing two of the bottle at my attackers. There was a loud explosion as they hit the ground – thanks to the sodium. Sodium tends to react violently when mixed with certain other chemicals.  
  
I ran out from my hiding place and escaped out of the lab, heading towards Weiss. I ran down another hallway and almost stopped when I saw a man holding him against the wall, a hand at his throat. The man turned to look at me, as I brought my gun up and I was surprised that he seemed familiar to me. He, too, seemed to recognise me, and acted as if he were surprised to see me here.  
  
I fired at him, but missed him as he dropped Weiss and fled. I ran to were Weiss was slumped against the wall. "Are you okay?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah." He said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Go get him."  
  
I didn't need to be told twice. I raced down the hallway and out of the building, only to see a car screeching around the corner, out of sight. "Dammit!" I swore, as I heard someone come up behind me.  
  
I pivoted quickly, my gun coming up, but it was only Weiss. He looked sadly at me and shook his head. "They're dead." He said. "All of them."  
  
I felt a stab of guilt at his words. "Oh my God, Weiss." I said. "If only I'd told the truth, this might not have happened..."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Weiss asked, confused.  
  
"I've never been here before!" I blurted in anguish. Those men were dead because of me. It was all my fault. "The dream I had...I just had to regain the CIA's trust...and now the team's dead..."  
  
"Syd, this operation was on whether you came or not. And if you hadn't, I'd be dead too." Weiss told me.  
  
"I don't know what to do! I..." I babbled. Everything was too much! "Everything's wrong, everything's upside down..."  
  
"Syd, we gotta go home." Weiss broke in.  
  
"I can't go back!" I snapped, suddenly frustrated with the world. "Lindsay hates my father and he doesn't trust me! He wanted results from this operation. He wanted the chip. If I go back after this, he'll pull my clearance and I'll never be able to help my father!"  
  
"What are you thinking?" Weiss asked.  
  
"This was obviously an ambush. Those gunmen work for the Covenant. The one who was going to kill you, I saw his face!" I said, thinking out loud. "If I can make a positive ID, that could lead me to the chip! Leverage!"  
  
It made sense. If I could get my hands on the chip, Lindsay would have my father go. And once my father was out of prison, we could finally figure out what happened to me over the last two years. The only problem was, how was I going to find the chip?  
  
"To do what?" Weiss asked me, incredulous.  
  
I looked at him. "To get my father out of custody! To recover what was stolen from the CIA! To make sure those men didn't die for nothing!" I snapped. "I'm going to need a contact – a freelancer...not with the CIA. Someone with resources. All of my names are two years old."  
  
Weiss looked at me, as if guessing there was nothing he could say to persuade me not to do this. "You're not going to like my suggestion." He said finally. "You should go see Arvin Sloane."  
  
Arvin Sloane. At his name I felt my blood begin to boil. That bastard was still alive? And why the hell would Weiss tell me to see him? Then I felt my face harden. I could almost guarantee that bastard had had something to do with my death.  
  
"What?" I demanded.  
  
"Sloane negotiated a pardon after your...death. He's now a consultant for the CIA." Weiss explained. "He now runs a World Health Organisation in Zurich. Omnifam."  
  
His words hit me like a blow to the gut. I was in shock. They let that bastard work for the CIA? Somehow I didn't think Sloane had suddenly become a good guy. He was up to something. Then I forced those thoughts aside. I had to get that chip. Then I could worry about what Sloane was up to.  
  
"Listen to me." I said to Weiss. "We never had this conversation. After the gunfight I disappeared. You never saw me again."  
  
"Syd, what are you gonna do?" he asked me as I turned and ran off.  
  
"Syd!" he yelled after me, but I ignored him. I had things to do.

* * *

I slept through most of the flight to Switzerland. Thanks to my forward planning from two years ago, I had grabbed a changed of clothes, money and a passport from a safety deposit box in Paris. Once in Zurich, it wasn't hard to find Omnifam headquarters. It was a big, modern building near the centre of the city.  
  
I stalked into Sloane's office, right past his surprised secretary. "Excuse me, Miss? Miss you can't go in there!" she called after me, but I ignored her.  
  
I pushed open the door to Sloane's office and spotted Sloane on the balcony, his back to me. He looked just as slimy and arrogant as he always had. I'm not sure if that was a good think or not. Almost as if he sensed me behind him, he turned and saw me...without so much as a look of surprise. As if he were expecting me. As if he knew I wasn't dead.  
  
I stared at him in confusion as he opened the glass door and walked into the room. I felt someone enter the room behind me, but I couldn't stop glaring at the man who had betrayed and hurt me so much.  
  
"It's okay. We're fine." Sloane said with a wave of his hand. Then he turned to me. "Hello Sydney."  
  
I couldn't believe it. That bastard was going to stand there and pretend everything was normal. Like I hadn't been missing for two years and he hadn't betrayed me and his country. Then I forced those thoughts and anger away – or at least tried to. It was hard. I focused on the reason I was here. I had to get information to help my father. Just information.  
  
"There's a group the CIA have targeted." I said, getting straight to the point and refusing to get drawn into his games. "They call themselves the 'Covenant'. They've stolen something I need to get back.  
  
As I was talking, Sloane walked to his desk and picked up a folder. "I've made a visual ID of one of their members. I need to put a name to his face. You're going to help me." I continued.  
  
Sloane walked towards me, the folder still in his hand and a smirk on his face. "Well...you must be in real trouble to come to me for assistance."  
  
He slid the folder across the desk to me, remaining on the opposite side, as if he was not sure what I would do if he came closer. I walked to the desk, picked it up and looked inside. Right on top was a photo of the man I had seen in Paris.  
  
"His name is Gordei Volkov." Sloane told me. "He's a former Russian MVD – a high calss hit man."  
  
Sloane sat down behind his desk, acting calm and collected. But I had noticed his wary glances at me. I got a jolt of surprise. Sloane was nervous – of me. "You just happened to have his file sitting on your desk..." I trailed off.  
  
"I had it because I was expecting you, Sydney. I know you've gone rouge and that your father's being held in solitary. And based on my personal experience with you, I'd say you're looking for a way to win his freedom. Am I right?"  
  
It sickened me to know just how well he knew me. I watched as he got up and walked towards me. "Sydney, just try to remember the bond we had between us, you and I." he continued. "I loved you like a daughter. I loved you. And even you would admit there were times, I would see it in your eyes, you would look at me like I was your f..."  
  
All throughout his speech my anger had been growing. There was no bond between us. I hated him for what he had done to me, my friends and my family. He was responsible for the deaths of so many people close to me. But when he tried to say father, I saw red. I had only one father. His name was Jack Bristow.  
  
Before Sloane could finish his sentence, I grabbed him and slammed him head- first into his desk. I leant over him and grabbed the first weapon I could find: a letter opener. I held it to his throat. "Where the hell have I been the last two years?!" I demanded. "I know it was you! What the hell did you do to me?" My voice was thick with rage and hatred.  
  
But when Sloane answered his tone was cool. "Sydney, do you believe in redemption?"  
  
"Not for you. No."  
  
"We've helped to feed over 3½ million children worldwide. We do research." Sloane said. "Our work on cancer has the potential to save millions of lives, Sydney. So much has changed since you've been gone."  
  
As he was talking, I caught sight of a magazine on his desk. There was a picture of Sloane on the cover. The headline read: 'Arvin Sloane: Rising Angel'. Sloane was a merciless monster who had betrayed everyone he had ever known. He couldn't have he?  
  
I stepped back and let him up. My instincts told me he was hiding something. And that he was still the same old Sloane. And I trusted them.  
  
"Remember the Rambaldi device? The machine designed 500 years ago by a prophet?" Sloane asked me. "All I did was bring all the pieces together and have it assembled. And when I turned it on, it delivered a message, as I suspected it would. I wasn't prepared for what it said. The message was just one word, one simple word: Peace. The epiphany I had at that moment, suddenly I saw all the mistakes I'd made, the pain I had inflicted on the world...the people I loved. So I chose then and there to give information to the CIA with which they were able to dismantle over two dozen terrorist cells."  
  
I raised an eyebrow at him, my face a cold mask. "I don't know how you've convinced the CIA you're trustworthy."  
  
"Why don't you check my files?"  
  
"I know you too well." I said coldly. "I don't buy any of it."  
  
I couldn't stand to be in the same room as him anymore. Sloane was up to the same games he had been up to two years ago. He was just using the CIA to help him and his goals. But I would stop him. And kill him. I turned and walked out of the room and the building, back on the bustling streets of Zurich, before taking a deep breath. Now that I had the information I needed, I just needed to make a phone call.  
  
I found a phone booth and began to call all the contacts I remembered. I tried contacts in England, the US, Paris, Italy and Russia. But they were all gone. Damn it! Finally I found one with my second last number.  
  
"I tried to reach over two dozen contacts; you're the only one still active." I said. "I need help."  
  
"Of course." Said a voice with a thick French accent. "Why else would you be calling?"  
  
"We need to meet. The usual place, 1pm tomorrow." I told him.  
  
"Very well." He said and hung up.  
  
I breathed a sigh of relief as I hung up the phone. Easy. Now all I had to do was get to Paris.

* * *

The restaurant was as charming as ever. I always had loved it. But mainly is was quiet. Just the way I wanted it. Sitting across from me was a rather round looking, dark skinned man. My contact. As always he wore an expensive suit and a pair of fashionable glasses. "Thank you for coming." I said.  
  
"Of course." He replied, his accent even thicker than it had been on the phone. "Forgive me if I look shocking to you, but I was believing that you were dead."  
  
"I was." I said. "But now I'm not."  
  
"This is why I love our business." He said, his tone slightly amused.  
  
"I need some information."  
  
"I hope I can help you." My contact said as he took out a cigarette from a slim silver case and put it in his mouth.  
  
"Gordei Volkov." I told him.  
  
My contact stopped dead, his cigarette dangling from his lips and his lighter halfway to his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in surprise. Then he finished lighting his cigarette and took a deep drag. He looked at me as he blew out the smoke. "Volkov has a meeting scheduled for tomorrow night in Prague." He said. "I have the address. He's supposed to be delivering something. What it is, I don't know. Perhaps it is your thing."  
  
I nodded slowly, processing the information. Then I smiled as an idea formed in my head. "Do you know what he drives?" I asked.  
  
"A sedan...armoured, of course. With a protective detail." He looked at me. "Sydney, if you want to stop that car, you will need uh...backup."  
  
"No. I don't."  
  
He looked at me in surprise. "But I will need clothes." I told him, my tone matter of fact. I had a plan.

* * *

Another flight later, I was in Prague. I was tired and worn down, but kept on going. I gave a small smile when I thought of all those frequent flyer miles. I used the money I had to rent myself a car and drove to a safe house I kept in the city. I was grateful for the chance to have a shower and get some sleep. I managed to catch a few hours, but my eyes still felt gritty. I focused on the task at hand, trying to keep my mind of what had happened to me.  
  
I walked out of the steamy bathroom towards the bed, and felt a small shiver of anticipation. I always felt that before a mission, and in some ways I was relieved it was still the same. A smile touched my face as I got ready. I slipped into a tight, flame red dress and a pair of stilettos. I added heavy makeup and a short auburn wig. I slipped on a pair of sunglasses and a large gun into my purse. My smile turned cold. I was ready.  
  
The setting sun bathed the wet alleyway in a golden light. I glanced at my watch as I stood by a large puddle. As the sky darkened around me, I heard a car coming towards me. I smiled, slipped off my sunglasses and walked up the street with a confidant swagger. A grey sedan turned the corner into the alley and I saw four men inside.  
  
Calmly, as the car sped towards me, I saw Volkov in the front passenger seat. He spoke to the driver when he saw me, and the car stopped. But he didn't recognise me. I smiled coyly at him and he smiled back. Then I pulled out my gun, aimed and pulled the trigger. The car exploded in a ball of flame.  
  
I walked towards the wreckage and noticed Volkov lying sprawled on the ground beside it. He had tried to jump out of the car, but he hadn't been fast enough. I smiled coldly as I bent and rifled through his pockets. My hand touched a cool metal box in one of his pockets and I pulled it out. I opened it and grinned. The chip. I put the chip carefully into my purse along with my gun and drew out a pair of handcuffs. I suppose I had better take Volkov back too. Maybe the CIA could get some information out of him.  
  
But before I could handcuff him, he surged to his feet, obviously awake. He swung at me with a punch, obviously not expecting me to fight back. He looked surprised when I blocked and kicked him in the stomach. He staggered backwards as I swung again with a roundhouse kick, but managed to block it, throwing me slightly off balance.  
  
He darted in with a kick and I retreated, before spinning around with a punch-kick combination that sent him reeling again. He backed up to the wall of the alley and waited, his hand rubbing his jaw where I had hit him before. I came at him again, trying to knock him out when he whipped out a knife and grabbed my by the neck in a lightening fast move. I felt the cold metal press against my throat.  
  
Volkov nuzzled my ear, seemingly turned on by our fight. I scowled. He was scum. Taking my opportunity, I grabbed his wrist and wrenching the knife away from my neck, before elbowing him in the face and spinning away. Before he could turn and come at me again, I gave him a hard kick to the back, putting all my anger and frustration into it.  
  
Volkov slammed into the wall and sank to the ground. I looked at him, slightly surprised by his reaction...and noticed the knife protruding from his abdomen. I can't say that I really cared. As the blood grew on the concrete below him, I turned and walked back to the red Ferrari I had driven in earlier. As I drove past Volkov, he fell face down onto the ground, his eyes glassy and lifeless. I sped up and headed towards the safe house. It was time to go back...I couldn't really call it home anymore. I had to get dad out of prison. 


	4. Back at the CIA

**Part Four:**

I strode down the familiar corridors of the CIA headquarters in LA. I caught the surprised glances of the other agents, but I didn't care. Once again I had changed, but this time I wore a pair of boots, black jeans and a black zip-up jumper. I felt strange because I was not wearing a suit, but I decided I like it. I saw Weiss, but ignored him as I stalked towards Dixon's office.

Both Dixon and Lindsay were there, just as I had hoped. "Sydney..." Dixon began, but I cut him off by holding up the chip.

I looked at Lindsay. "I have the plans for the drone." I said. "If you want them back, get the NSC to release my father immediately."

"Excuse me!" Lindsay snapped. "I won't be blackmailed by a fugitive! Did you really think you could come in here and threaten me?"

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a small blowtorch. "Yes." I said as I lit it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lindsay asked.

"I want it in writing that today is the day Jack Bristow is released from custody." I told him, my tone cold.

Dixon was standing behind Lindsay with his arms crossed – and smirking. I think he was enjoying seeing someone get the better of Robert Lindsay. "Mr. Dixon, talk to her!" Lindsay said desperately.

"I'm addressing you, Mr. Lindsay. I want that get-out-of-jail-free-card for my father or these are gone!"

"This is ridiculous!" Lindsay snapped.

"Mr. Dixon, please provide Mr. Lindsay with a pen."

"I've got my own pen." Lindsay said. "And there's not a chance I'm using it!"

"It's your call." I said. "5..."

"This is insane!" Lindsay yelled.

"...4..."

"Mr. Lindsay, she will destroy those plans." Dixon said to him.

"...3...2...1..." As I counted down, I moved the blowtorch gradually towards the chip, getting closer and closer.

"Fine!" Lindsay agreed, just before the chip touched the flame.

Lindsay glared at means I put away the blowtorch. Dixon handed him a clipboard, trying to hold back a smile. "Thank you." Lindsay muttered.

He started writing, and I couldn't help but rub his nose in it. What can I say? I really didn't like the man. "B...R...I...S...T...O...W." I spelt.

"I know how to spell your name!" he snapped through clenched teeth.

He finished writing the document in silence before handing it to Dixon. "Don't think I'm going to just forget this Miss Bristow!" he said furiously before storming out.

I turned to leave. "Sydney, wait a moment."

I turned back to look at Dixon and he gestured for me to sit down. I did as he sat down behind his desk. For a moment I was struck by the strangeness of the situation. Dixon had always been my partner, my colleague and my friend, but never my boss. Suddenly I wasn't sure how to act around him anymore.

"Sydney," Dixon began. "I know that this situation is tough for you, but I just wanted to make one thing clear. I have to say this as your boss. While I didn't agree with the NSC in regard to the imprisonment of your father, I also don't agree with your methods to free him. I want to know I can trust you to follow orders Sydney, and not go off on your own."

I looked at his serious face and nodded. I had expected something like this. My only hope was to convince Dixon not to pull my clearance. I needed it to figure out what had happened to me. But I felt relieved when Dixon's expression softened. "Get some sleep." He told me and handed me a key and a piece of paper. "It's not much, but the CIA has given you a new apartment, since the last one was destroyed because of your...job. And I'll see you back at work tomorrow morning."

I looked hopefully at him. "Does this mean I can have my old job back?" I asked.

"Yes." Dixon smiled at me. "Welcome back Sydney."

* * *

The apartment the CIA had found for me was small, but bright and only two blocks from the beach. I missed my old apartment, but more than that, I missed my friends. My new apartment felt so empty. I spent the afternoon shopping for clothes and food. I had furniture thanks to the CIA, but nothing else. There were no photographs or knickknacks. And when I saw how empty my life had become I finally burst into sobs.

My life was gone. My friends were gone. Will was alive, but I didn't know where he was. I curled up on the couch and cried until dark fell. Everyone in my life had moved on. And Vaughn was married. The tears fell harder as I pictured his handsome face and remembered all the sweet things he used to say to me. All the things we had shared. How could he have got over me like that? I know it was two years, but he had loved me. How could he have moved on so fast?

I cried for Francie, who was dead because of me and the job I did. I cried for all the things she had missed and all the things we could have shared. I cried for Will and the way I had destroyed his life – and almost caused his death. I cried for the pain I had caused my father...and my mother. I cried for all the things I had missed, all the things I could have done.

And then finally I got up and washed my face. I was stronger than this. No matter how many tears I cried, nothing was going to change. The only way I was going to fix my life and move on, was if I did it myself. I was going to find out what happened to my life and deal with whoever was responsible. And if it was Arvin Sloane, I was going to kill him.

I felt too drained and nauseous to eat anything, so I just crawled into my strange bed and curled into a little ball. I tried to convince myself that I was going to get through this, but from here my task looked so big. There were so many things I didn't know. So many problems that I needed to deal with. But gradually my eyes began to droop and I found it hard to focus on my thoughts. I drifted off to sleep with one final thought echoing through my head: I was going to get through this.

* * *

_I ran down a dark corridor, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt kind of detached from myself. As if this wasn't quite real. I felt the comforting weight of a gun in my hand. I heard pounding footsteps behind me, but I knew I wasn't being chased. Whoever it was, they were working with me. I glanced at the doors on either side of me and watched them counting down._

_214. 213. 212. As the numbers got smaller, I felt the urge to run faster. Time was running out. Time for what? I couldn't remember. My brain felt fuzzy and the corridor slipped out of focus. The footsteps behind me faded along with my own and I couldn't hear the sound of my breathing anymore. Vaguely I heard someone yell, "Sydney!" – but I didn't know who._

* * *

I jerked upright in bed, the images still fresh in my mind. My breathing was ragged, as if I had been running, and I felt sweat covering my body. What the hell had that been? Were they memories? Or just some kind of weird dream?

I looked at the clock beside my bed, and saw it was 5:30 in the morning. I knew I wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep now, so I might as well get up. As tired as I still was, I got up and threw on some sweats, hoping a run would clear my head. I tied my hair into a plait and grabbed my sunglasses.

The beach was beautiful in the early morning sunlight and the air was fresh and salty. A soft breeze tugged at my hair, trying to pull it from its plait and cooling my hot skin. My feet pounded in a steady rhythm, but none of it helped me relax. Despite all the peace around me, my thoughts were still whirling around my head and my emotions were still in turmoil. Sighing in disgust, I gave up after half an hour and walked back to my apartment.

As I did, I passed other joggers out for an early morning run and envied them. Their lives were probably so simple. They only had to worry about when to pay their bills and meeting their deadlines. They weren't missing two years of their lives. They didn't have to face the fact that the man they loved had gone and married someone else. I shook my head in an attempt to clear it as I opened my front door.

My apartment was as silent as it had been when I had left, and I felt a pang of grief when I began to listen for the sounds of Francie cooking in the kitchen or Will singing in the shower. They weren't here. I was alone. I stripped off my sweats and climbed into the shower. The hot water pounded over me, loosening my tense muscles and soothing me. For a moment reality faded and my worries disappeared. For a moment I was just me.

And then the moment faded. With a heavy heart I shut off the water and climbed out, pushing my wet hair from my face. I wrapped a towel around my hair and padded out of the bathroom, clad only in my underwear. When I walked into my bedroom, I caught sight of myself in the full length mirror in the corner, and stopped dead in my tracks.

I took the towel from my head and let my dark, wet hair cascade over my shoulders. It now hung halfway down my back, at least 3 inches longer than it had been. As if I hadn't cut it since I had disappeared. My body, too, had changed. I hadn't noticed it before, because I had been too preoccupied, but as I stared at myself in the mirror I felt like it was the body of a stranger.

There was the new 3 inch scar near my navel that hadn't been there before. I had a few faint scars on my fist that I hadn't noticed before as well. My body was also harder and leaner than it had been, my muscles more defined. It looked like the body of a woman who had been constantly fighting – or running. Where the hell had I been?

I rubbed a weary hand over my face and blinked. I had to get ready for work. Without interest I finished dressing in a black suit and heels. I wore no jewellery and pulled my hair from my face. I covered up the dark shadows under my eyes as best as I could, but I could do nothing about the haunted look in my eyes.

I tried to eat a piece of toast for breakfast, simply because I needed food, but couldn't manage it. The drive to work passed as a blur as I tried to regain my composure. I sat in my car, staring blankly at the windshield for a long time before I felt I could finally manage to smile and look happy. I didn't want to face my friends and pretend I was coping. Or face Dixon and try and convince him to let me back on field duty again. But I had to. The only other option was giving up. And while it looked very attractive right now, I wasn't going to do that.

I almost turned and walked back outside when I saw who was standing just inside the building. Weiss and Vaughn. I didn't want to face him right now. Too much had happened to me since I had last seen him. I needed time to sort out my feelings. Then I gritted my teeth and lifted my head. No, I didn't need time. I knew how I felt. Rejected and betrayed. Vaughn had lost faith in me...in us.

The two men stopped talking as I approached. Vaughn started towards me and smiled sheepishly at me. I just looked coldly at the man I once believed loved me. "I came by to see how you were." He said.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked incredulous. He came by to see how I was? Bullshit!

Vaughn's smile faded. "No. I just wanted to make sure that you..."

"You didn't come here to see how I am!" I snapped. "You came to see how you are, because you know in your heart that what you did...you want to make sure you're okay!"

I was seething. How could he just give up? Wasn't our love strong enough? Obviously not. My father's words came back to me: "Michael Vaughn is just a boy who was never good enough for you." Maybe he was right.

Vaughn looked stunned at my words. "I buried you! Consider that for what..." he said.

I interrupted him, not being able to stand anymore of his excuses. "Don't use rational thought as a defence with me! Not after all you and I have seen! Vaughn, you and I live and breath madness everyday on the job! There is no rational thought! I can't even pretend to have a conversation about anything else with you. What it comes down to is faith!"

Vaughn tensed at my words, but I didn't care. "What I was hoping you would say is: Sydney, I gave up. I lost faith." I continued. I could feel myself getting more upset and emotional with every word. "But what you came here for was closure! And there is not a chance you are getting that from me."

I felt as if I would start to cry at any moment, but I held back the tears. "I'm not going to understand. I'm not going to sympathize with you, tell you how hard it must be for you! But you want to know how I am?!" I gasped for breath as everything came pouring out. "I am horrible! I am ripped apart!" My voice fell to a strained whisper. "And not because I lost you...but because if it had been me, I would have waited!"

Vaughn blinked slowly several times and swallowed painfully, holding back the tears. I was barely holding back my sobs, but I had to let it all out. "I would have found the truth! I wouldn't have given up on you..." I shot him a look of pure anger. "And now I realise what an absolute waste that would have been!" I said, my voice filled with venom.

And it was true. I would have stopped searching. I would have found the truth. I wouldn't have just accepted it. And it would have been a waste. An absolute waste. Vaughn stood there stunned as I fled, holding back the tears until I found an empty bathroom and cried my heart out for the second time in two days.

Pulling myself together, I did what I always did when things got too much to deal with right now. I could not afford to show weakness, I had to be strong. So I locked my emotions away in the corner of my mind. I carefully repaired my makeup and stood up straight, my chin held high. I was strong. I would get through this.

I'm not sure how I got through the rest of the day. I guess I just focused on what they were telling me. I had a lot of information to catch up on. Two years was a long time. At around lunchtime, Dixon came up to me. "Syd, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

"Sure." I replied, curious as to what he wanted to talk to me about.

We walked into his office and he shut the door. "Syd, you should know that Lindsay is trying to get your father locked up again."

I frowned. "What is he trying to charge him with?"

"The same as last time. He seems to believe your father is still in contact with Irina Derevko."

I nodded. He probably was – I just didn't know. "Why are you telling me this?"

"So you know." Dixon replied. "I'm doing everything I can to block him, but there's only so much I can do."

I nodded again. "Thanks, Dixon." I said. "For everything."

He smiled softly at me. "I just wish I could give you some good news."

I smiled back. "It's okay."

I spent the afternoon with Marshall, going over satellite maps and photographs of Covenant members and current known terrorists. I was just finishing up with the location of all the Covenant outposts known to the CIA, when I saw him. And I forgot everything. Marshall, the maps and the Covenant. All I saw was my father.

I rushed into his arms, exhausted but so happy to see him. He looked just like he always had, his hair cut and his beard gone. I held him tight and he held me just as desperately. "Thank you." He whispered in my ear.

I finally pulled away from him, tears streaming down my face. He smiled at me and cupped my cheek. I gave him a watery smile back. I was feeling so many things. Relief, love, hope, fear...

He leaned towards me. "There's something I need to show you." He whispered. "Not here..."

I nodded at him and saw Dixon standing with Weiss and Lindsay across the room, looking at me. "Go." He mouthed.

I flashed him a grateful smile. "Thank you." I mouthed back.

I turned back to my dad. "Let's go."

Dad drove me to an empty parking garage. He put his laptop on the bonnet of the car and faced me. "Almost a year after your apparent death, I was on an operation. One of the men I was tracking was this man." He said, handing me a photo.

I stared down at the grey haired man in the photo. His blue eyes seemed to stare at me. He looked almost familiar, but not quite. "Adrian Lazarey, Russian diplomat." Dad told me.

"I've never seen him before." I told him.

Dad looked at the computer and pressed a button. I stared at the screen as a black and white video began to play. I saw Lazarey sitting behind a desk. "This was from a hidden camera that I placed in his office." Dad said.

I continued to watch the video as Lazarey got up and approached a tall blonde who had just entered the room. They shook hands and kissed cheeks. As Lazarey walked past the camera, the woman turned so I could see her face. I gasped. It was me!

"This was how I knew you were alive." Dad said. "You don't recall this at all?"

"No..." I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

But that wasn't all. I stared in horror at the screen as I pulled out a knife as soon as Lazarey's back was turned. And then I calmly slit his throat. I gasped. "No..."

On the screen, Lazarey clutched at his throat, blood pouring through his fingers, before slumping to the ground. "Oh my God, Dad..." I began.

"I know, sweetheart." He said, looking at me in sympathy and understanding.

I looked at him in panic. "Do you think they brainwashed me?" I asked. "Did I...did I really kill him?"

My father looked at me. "Yes, Sydney. You did." He said. "I'm sorry..."

Taking a deep breath, I looked at the frozen picture of Lazarey's death. I expected feel soul deep horror at my cold-blooded actions, but I didn't. "You can't be brainwashed." My Dad added softly. "It's a result of your Project Christmas training."

I turned back to look at him and caught his guilty look. "I'm sorry sweetheart." He said.

"It's alright Dad." I said, hugging him again. "I'm actually kind of glad I wasn't brainwashed. That means I'm still me."

My father hugged me back. "You're one of the strongest women I've ever met, Sydney." He said softly. "You'll find the truth."

I smiled at him, touched by his words. But inside I felt torn. "He was unarmed." I said, meaning Lazarey. "Dad, I slit a man's throat in cold blood."

"Your remorse is premature." He said. "Without knowing the circumstances, you can't be sure you didn't have just cause."

I nodded. "If only I could remember..."

"You're memory loss could have been caused by many things." He said. "Some forms of torture, particularly electroconvulsive shock therapy can cause amnesia." I grimaced at the horrible thought. "It also could have been as simple as a blow to the head. There's no way to know until you remember."

"But I will remember?" I asked.

"It's most likely you will, yes." He agreed. "But it will take time."

"Time is something we don't have!" I said, frustrated. "I can't remember for a reason, I can feel it. Someone out there doesn't want me to remember something important. I need to find out what it is."

Dad nodded. "I'll find everything I can about Lazarey. Perhaps that will give us a clue to where you were."

I nodded. "Thanks, Dad." Then I sighed. "I need to think about this."

"I know." Dad said and grabbed his laptop off the bonnet.

We climbed back into the car and drove back across town as the sun set around us. The sky was red by the time we pulled into the CIA parking lot. "How are you feeling?" Dad asked after switching off the motor.

"I'm not sure." I said truthfully. "I need time to sort out my feelings and think about everything. It's so different." I said.

"Just remember, I'm always here for you."

"Thanks, Dad." I said, smiling gratefully at him. "I will."

I kissed him on the cheek and got out of the car. "I'll see you tomorrow." I said.

He nodded at me. "Try to get some sleep."

"I will."

I watched him drive away and sighed. I wanted to go home, but I had to do something first. I had someone to see. Robert Lindsay.

* * *

I found the bastard in the men's room. I stood behind him and waited until he turned around. "Son of a bitch!" he cursed when he saw me, spilling water all over his pants.

"I hear you're trying to lock my father away again." I said coolly.

"Who do you think you are?" Lindsay interrupted, outraged.

I continued, ignoring his protests. "I just want you to know, that I won't let that happen again."

"Oh, you do, do you?" he snapped.

"Did I stutter?" I asked.

"You have no right to..." Lindsay began, but I talked right over the top of him.

"I also want you to know that I will take you in here and threaten me like this!" Lindsay finished.

"...every time you threaten him or try to hurt any of my friends!" I said. "I'm not impressed by the fact you play golf with the President. I won't let you do it."

"Did it slip your mind that I am the Director of the National Security Council?" Lindsay snapped. "I could pick up the phone and have you thrown in the same jail cell that your father just vacated! Hell, it's still warm!"

"Do it." I challenged. "Give me an object lesson in the abuse of power. Show me how it's done."

Lindsay looked at me for a moment, not sure what to say, knowing all his bullying and threats wouldn't work on me. He didn't scare me. I had seen far worse than him in the world. "If you're finished...this is the men's room." He finally said, finishing the conversation.

I could resist a parting shot. "Who let you in?" I said, before turning and walking back out to the parking lot. Behind me Lindsay mumbled something and tried to dry his pants. I smiled coldly at the sounds.

I got into my car feeling better. There was nothing like threatening a slimy bastard to make a girl feel good. I slipped on my sunglasses and turned on the radio in an effort to distract myself. As the loud sounds of a rock song poured out of the speakers, I drove back to my empty apartment – and wondered if I would ever be able to call anywhere home again.


	5. Meeting the Vaughns

**Part Five:**

I sat curled up on the couch as darkness fell. The large room was bathed in blood red light and slowly filling with shadows. I thought it was rather appropriate. I was bleeding and no one could see. Slowly I was dying on the inside. And I couldn't save myself. I took a shaky breath and tried not to cry. I couldn't spend my life crying over something I couldn't change. Nor would I cry over a man who had betrayed me...

Vaughn. I saw his green eyes smiling at teased he gently teased me. He had made me feel so comfortable and secure. And I had thought no matter what happened, I could come back to him. How wrong I had been!

Angry and frustrated, I got up and chucked a frozen dinner in the microwave. I didn't feel like cooking anything – I didn't actually feel like eating either, but I knew I had to. Aimlessly I wandered around my empty apartment, until the microwave dinged. Then I curled back up on the couch and tried to get up enough enthusiasm to eat.

Half an hour later I got up and turned on the light. I took on look at my cold dinner and threw it away. I wasn't hungry. Just as I was about to go to bed there was a knock at the door. Automatically I reached behind me for my gun. But it wasn't there. Where had that come from? I frowned. Why did I automatically reach for a gun when there was a knock at the door? What had I been doing for those two years?

I walked to the door and opened it a crack, surprised to see Weiss standing there. "Hi." He said.

"Hi." I replied.

He smiled sheepishly at me. "I have tequila." He said hopefully and pulled a bottle out from behind his back.

I smiled softly at him. "I think tequila and a friend are just what I need right now." I said gratefully and opened the door so he could come in.

"How ya feelin'?" Weiss asked.

"I don't really know." I said truthfully, walking into the kitchen for some shot glasses. "Everything is so different from what I remember. I just can't sort out what I feel."

"It'll get better, Syd." Weiss said.

"I hope so." I replied.

We moved into the lounge and a few shot later, I was feeling better. Weiss was still the same as he had always been, he was still my friend. And everything would be alright. I'd figure it out.

"So you sure you're okay with this?" Weiss asked. "I mean, are you going to be all right? You know, livin' by yourself?"

"I just can't wrap my head around it." I admitted. "I mean, Francie's been dead for two years, but I feel like I saw her a few days ago. And now that Will is in Witness Protection, I can't even contact him. All my friends are just gone."

"Not all your friends..." Weiss said.

I smiled at him. "No. Maybe not all my friends."

"Hey...was that a smile? It's nice to see that again." He teased.

My smile grew. "And I guess this place isn't so bad..."

Weiss chuckled. "Oh c'mon!" he said. "Two blocks from the beach! Are you kidding me? And you've got me as a neighbour...trust me, you're set!"

"You're my neighbour?" I asked, surprised.

Weiss poured us both another drink. "Yeah. Just down the corridor."

"Cool." I said.

"Now, drink." Weiss said and handed me my glass.

Grinning we toasted each other and I swallowed the shot. The tequila burned all the way to my stomach as I sucked on a lime. "God, how many of these have we had?" I asked when I saw the pile of lime slices.

"Ah..." Weiss looked at the bottle. "You know, I don't know."

I giggled. "Oh no!" I said. "That's not good. I'm giggling."

"Have another drink." Weiss said, pouring one.

I giggled again. Then I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Drink!" Weiss said.

So I did. As I sucked on a lime, Weiss suddenly got up. The sharp movement made me blink. "We need music!" he said.

"Yes!" I agreed.

Weiss staggered over to the stereo and turned on the radio. A pop song came on and Weiss started dancing to the music. "C'mon Syd!" he said. "Let's dance!"

"I don't think I'm drunk enough to do that yet." I said.

"Fine!" he said and began to dance around my lounge room. I burst into laughter at his movements. "Weiss!" I said as he wiggled his bum at me.

"Eric!" he yelled back.

"Come and sit down before you fall over!"

Weiss came back and sat down with a thump. "Spoilsport." He said, and poked his tongue out at me.

"Have a drink." I said and poured us both one.

I paused for a second, the tequila making me bolder than I would usually have been. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah..." Weiss said, swallowing his shot.

He made a face and reached for a slice of lime. "Vaughn's wife...what's she like?" I asked him.

Weiss looked at me in surprise. "Are you sure you wanna hear this?"

I drank my shot and felt it burn. "Yes." I said firmly.

"When Vaughn heard that you were dead...Syd, he dropped off the face of the Earth. I mean literally, Syd." Weiss told me earnestly. "He was out of the country for, like, six months. You need to know he was not cavalier about moving on."

I nodded. "I mean, I could barely convince him to consider coming back to the Agency." He added.

"He's thinking about coming back?" That was a surprise, although really, it shouldn't have been.

"I shouldn't have said that." Weiss said.

I thought about Vaughn coming back, and decided I didn't care. He was in the past. If he wanted to come back, that was his decision. It was time to move on. If it had been meant to last, it would have. "That's all right." I said. "I won't tell."

"She's nice." He told me.

"Have another drink." I said. I'd been saying a lot of that recently, hadn't I?

"Good idea." Weiss agreed and poured us both another drink.

He looked thoughtfully at me. "The wedding was nice, too...her parent's farm in Virginia." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "She's Senator Reed's daughter, you know."

He paused for a minute and downed his shot. "There were cows everywhere...I've never seen so many cows! And then they started chasing Dixon..."

"Chasing Dixon?" I echoed.

"Yep." Weiss nodded. "Giant, mutant cows chasing him everywhere!"

I giggled at the ridiculous picture. "To the cows, then." I said, raising my glass in toast.

From there the conversation got crazier and crazier. Somehow we got started inventing reasons why I had been missing for those two years. "That's good!" Weiss said in reply to my suggestion that I had been abducted by aliens.

I drank another shot. "But the truth is..." I said.

"You are insane!" Weiss said, sucking on a lime.

I giggled. But now I was completely drunk, as was Weiss. "Wait a minute!" I said, trying to stop the giggles. "The truth is..."

"Oh, the _truth_ is..." Weiss downed another shot.

"The ever evasive truth..." I agreed. "...is that there are _advantages_ to losing all your stuff in a fire."

"How's that?" Weiss asked, sucking on another lime.

I poured another drink. "To dying and coming back to life..." I continued.

I began to pour Weiss another shot. "No, no, no...I'm good, I'm good..." he protested. "Okay, all right...a little one...just a..."

"Think about it! All the paper..." I said, drinking my shot. "Newspaper clippings from school, yearbooks, and sweaters I was never going to wear again, ever...pictures..." I felt said when I thought about all the pictures of Francie, Will and me...

"...picture frames..." I added, trying to drag my thoughts away from them.

"Yeah, but there's gotta be something that you had that...that it just _kills_ you that you don't have anymore..." Weiss said.

"Francie...Will..." I whispered, their faces appearing in my mind.

Weiss looked at me, horrified that he had made me sad. "I mean, like a _thing_..."

"I know what you mean." I said and poured us both another drink. "I used to have a first edition Alice in Wonderland – my mother gave it to me for my 5th birthday." I looked at Weiss. "Despite my rollercoaster relationship with her – wherever she is – that was one of the things I sort of loved..." Like my mother. Despite everything, I still loved her. I really did.

Weiss reached for the tequila bottle and was surprised to see it was almost empty. "Where'd it all go?" he asked, bewildered.

I giggled at his expression, my bad mood forgotten. "I think we drank it." I confided in a loud whisper.

"No...really?"

I giggled again. "Yep."

"All right then." He said. "Last drink. Bar is closing."

"To friends." I toasted. "And tequila."

"Yeah." Weiss agreed. "Tequila's good."

I giggled again and we downed the shots. "Right." Weiss said, trying to get up. "I have to go now."

"Why?" I asked.

Weiss looked blankly at me for a minute. Then he suddenly remembered. "Work! We have to go to work tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah." I nodded, and the world began to spin slowly. I groaned softly. "Okay, you go now. I'll sit here."

"No, you have to walk me to my door. It's the gentlemanly thing to do." Weiss said.

I giggled helplessly at his words. "I can't get up!" I said.

By the time Weiss had dragged me to my feet, we were both holding onto each other and giggling helplessly. "You're drunk!" I accused.

"So are you!" Weiss shot back.

I giggled. "C'mon."

Together we staggered towards Weiss' apartment, giggling all the way. It took a while but between us, we managed to open the door. "'Night, Syd." He said.

"'Night, Eric." I replied, and staggered back to my own apartment.

* * *

I woke up in the morning with a blinding hangover. Wincing, I managed to down three cups of coffee and two aspirin, before I began to feel even remotely human again. But by the time I had showered and dressed for work, I was actually beginning to feel normal again. And, despite the hangover, I was also feeling more light hearted than yesterday. I smiled, but it turned into a wince.

When I walked into the JTF office, I immediately headed for more coffee. There I found Weiss. "Morning." I said.

"Hi." He replied. "How ya feelin'?"

"Aside from the hangover? Pretty good."

He smiled, then winced. "Remember when I said tequila was good?" he asked. "I was wrong. Tequila is very, very bad."

"Oh, yeah." I agreed, as only someone with a hangover can.

At that moment, Dixon entered the tea room with a pretty blonde woman. "Sydney." He greeted. "Weiss."

"Hi." I replied weakly.

"What happened to you two?" Dixon asked.

"Tequila." Weiss answered.

Dixon frowned. "We're fine." I added quickly.

He nodded, letting it go. "Sydney, I was going to introduce you later." He said. "This is Lauren Reed. She's going to be our National Security Council liaison." Dixon motioned to the blonde beside him. "It seems, due to a conversation with you in the men's room, Robert Lindsay has decided to fly back to Washington."

I winced slightly. "Hi." I greeted. I hoped the woman – Agent Reed I corrected myself – would not be anything like Lindsay. I'm not sure I could handle that.

"Hi." The woman replied.

"Agent Reed with also be looking into the murder of Adrian Lazarey as part of a joint investigation with the Kremlin."

I felt a moment of fear, but suppressed it. "If there's anything I can do to help..?" I offered pleasantly.

"You should also know," Lauren said, "that in addition to being the NSC liaison, I am also Michael Vaughn's wife."

"Oh." I said. I didn't know what to say. She was Vaughn's wife? I never expected to see her at the CIA. I was very surprised, but I tried not to show it. The benefit of spy training. "Nice to meet you." I said lamely.

I looked at the woman more closely. Vaughn's wife. I didn't know whether to feel sad or relieved. Her blonde hair was carefully pulled back from her face and she wore an elegant dark grey suit. Her brown eyes were friendly, but held a trace of wariness and hostility. But I couldn't blame her. I was Vaughn's ex-girlfriend. The one he had grieved for.

Dixon smiled reassuringly at me, before turning to Weiss. "Can I have a word?" he asked.

Weiss nodded and followed Dixon out of the room. Lauren looked at me, and I looked straight back at her. The silence was awkward. I didn't know what to say to her. "Look, I know this is awkward..." Lauren began. "But I was hoping we could both be professional enough to work with each other."

She looked at me. "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me. I mean, I am married to the man you were in love with two years ago."

"I don't hate you." I said. "Or Vaughn."

Lauren nodded. "I'm not going to pretend this is going to be easy..." I said. "But I'm slowly trying to piece my life together again. And dealing with Vaughn being married is part of that. But I want you to know, that while I may still care for Vaughn, I respect that he now loves another woman."

"Thank you." Lauren said.

I nodded. There was another silence, but it was slightly less awkward than before. "Excuse me." She said.

I watched her leave and let out the breath I had been holding. That has to be one of the hardest and most awkward conversations I'd ever had. And it hadn't helped that when I learnt who she was I had remembered all those harsh words I had said to Vaughn. I rubbed my hand over my face. Why was my life so hard? Was it to much to ask for something to go right?

I smiled to myself when I thought about it. I shook my head. Since when did I ever believe my life was meant to be easy? I mean, my mother was an ex-KGB agent and current wanted terrorist, I had spent two years as a double agent against SD-6, I was supposedly the 'Chosen One' in an ancient prophecy...what was losing two years of my life when you thought about the rest of it? I sighed and grabbed my coffee mug. I might as well go out and face everyone again. And I probably call Vaughn and apologise.

An hour later everyone assembled for my first mission debriefing since I had come back. I walked over to where Weiss was standing. "How's your headache?" I asked.

"Better." He replied, smiling. "I think."

I grinned. "Poor Weiss." I teased.

"Sydney?" a voice asked from behind me.

"Marshall." I greeted warmly, turning to face him.

Marshall smiled shyly at me. "Uh, I kind of, well, made you a CD of all the most popular songs over the past few years..." he began. "Not so you can listen to all the impossible boy bands they keep churning out – except for JT Timberlake...that guy can move!"

Weiss flashed me an amused smile. I resisted the urge to poke my tongue out at him in response. "Anyway, and more importantly, because it's been scientifically proven that sounds trigger the CA3 region of the Hippocampus...you know, long term memory."

"Thanks." I said, touched that Marshall would go to all that trouble.

He blushed slightly, but was saved from answering as my father walked into the room. I looked at dad curiously, but he shook his head slightly. Obviously, he didn't know what was going on either. "Dad." I greeted.

"Sydney." He said. "How are you?"

"Holding up." I replied.

At that moment, Dixon walked into the room, with probably the last man I wanted to see right now. Michael Vaughn. It seemed he was back. Dixon looked at everyone assembled in the room, including two agents I had never seen before, as Vaughn walked over and greeted his wife.

I moved and sat down at the table, Weiss on one side and dad on the other. Marshall, Vaughn and Lauren sat down on the other side, and I noticed Vaughn wouldn't look at me. I bit my lip. I needed to apologise.

Trying to distract myself from the mess my life had become, I looked at the new agents. A man and a woman. The man was tall, with short light brown hair and hazel eyes. He was sitting next to Marshall, talking to him with a small smile on his face. The woman looked to be part Asian, with her straight black hair and almond shaped eyes. She wore her hair pulled back and a charcoal coloured suit.

Dixon sat down at the head of the table. "You all know Agent Vaughn." He said. "He has returned to the CIA. It will take a few days to get his field rating updated, but he is officially a member of our team."

There was a chorus of 'welcome back's' from everyone – except me and my father. I knew my father wasn't happy about his return from the way his expression closed down. And I also knew that it was because he wanted to spare me as much pain as possible. I needed to talk to Vaughn before I could welcome him back – provided of course, that he would eventually look at me.

"We also have another agent rejoining us today." Dixon continued. "Agent Sydney Bristow. You may be aware that she is supposed to have died two years ago. As far as we know, that was a Covenant set up. I trust you'll treat her with understanding and respect. She's been through a lot."

I noticed the two agents I didn't know were giving me sharp stares. "Sydney, this is Agent Mackenzie." Dixon said, motioning to the man. "And Agent Larson." He indicated the woman. ""I believe you know everyone else."

I nodded. "Nice to meet you." I said.

"Now that we're all acquainted, I'll get down to business." Dixon said. "Three hours ago, an agent of ours was kidnapped by the Covenant. His name is Hans Hoffmann. He was stationed in Germany and had recently come into possession of vital information regarding the Covenant. We believe it was put into a disk and hidden before he was kidnapped."

I looked at the screen in front of me and stared at the photo of a balding man with a bushy beard and wire rimmed glasses. I memorised his features, already guessing what Dixon would want me to do.

"We believe he is being held in Spain in a dance club held by this man: André Cortez." Dixon said. "According to Intel, Agent Hoffmann is being held in the basement level."

The picture in front of me changed. I now looked at the photo of a dark haired man, appearing to be in his early forties. He was rather average looking, but there was a cruel and devious gleam in his eyes – a look I had unfortunately come across a lot.

"Agent Weiss, Agent Mackenzie, I want you to lead a team to retrieve Agent Hoffmann and gain the location of the disk. Sydney, you'll need to disarm the security system from inside. Marshall will brief you on the optech." Dixon said. "You leave in two hours."

I nodded thoughtfully as everyone got up to leave, before taking a deep breath. It was now or never. I hurried over to where Vaughn was standing with Lauren. "Vaughn..." I began.

He turned to look at me, clearly not happy about seeing me. "Sydney." He greeted. "You've met Lauren?"

"Yeah." I said. "This morning." I smiled politely at the two of them.

"Vaughn, I just wanted to apologise about what I said the other day. I had no right to say some of those things. I felt angry and frustrated because of everything and I took it out on you. I'm sorry." I said in rush, and held my breath, waiting for his reply.

"I'm sorry too, Sydney." Vaughn said. "For everything. But I've moved on with my life, and I don't regret that. And I won't apologise for it either."

I nodded. I heard the faint anger behind the words and understood why it was there. His voice softened as he continued. "But I was hoping we could still be friends. Lame, I know."

I smiled softly. "No...I'd like that, too." I said. "But I can't do that right now. I'm still trying to sort out the pieces of my life. I need time."

Vaughn nodded. "I understand."

"Thanks." I said. "And, uh, welcome back."

I smiled at them again, and couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy when I saw how close they stood and how comfortable they were with each other. But I was surprised when I realised I wasn't jealous of Lauren because she was married to Vaughn. I was jealous because, deep down, I longed for someone to tell the deepest secrets of my heart to – like the way they obviously did.

At that moment Weiss walked up. "Syd?" he asked. "We need to go see Marshall for our optech."

I nodded. "Excuse me." I said to the Vaughns.

As soon as I was out of earshot I breathed a sigh of relief. "You looked like you needed a rescue." Weiss said.

"Yeah." I said. "I did."

Weiss looked at me, concerned. "Are you gonna be alright with this?" he asked. "I mean, working with Mike and Lauren?"

I nodded. "I think so."

"Well, I'm always here if you need to talk." Weiss told me.

"Thanks." I replied warmly, just as we walked into Marshall's office.


	6. Another Mission, Another Surprise

**Part Six:**

The loud techno music thumped around me as I half-danced, half-walked through the surging crowd. I smiled at the approving glances of many of the men, trying to live up to my party girl persona. It helped that I was wearing a long blonde wig and a very short skirt.

Once again, I wasn't so much wearing an outfit...more of an illusion, really. And I loved it. I wouldn't be seen doing something like this or wearing something like this in my life as Sydney Bristow. But during a mission...I was free. And that freedom was what made it so addictive. That and the adrenaline rush. It made me feel so alive.

I scanned the crowd, looking for my target. I spotted him at the bar, talking to another man. Smiling slightly, I sauntered over, before wiping the smile from my face. I ordered a drink – a cocktail – and turned my back on the bar looking bored. I noticed Cortez looking over at me. He finished his conversation and strolled over.

He came to stand next to me and leaned over towards my ear. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and his overpowering cologne. "Having fun?" he asked in my ear.

I thanked my lucky stars that my earpiece was in the other ear. I leaned back from him and raised an eyebrow. According to his file, André Cortez had a weakness for women...especially blondes. It was a fact I was counting on. "No." I replied, as I leaned forward again, making sure I flashed some cleavage in his direction.

"I know something that could be...fun." He said.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. The was drunk – which would make my job easier. "Really?" I asked.

He leaned back and grinned lecherously at me, and took my arm. I smiled seductively back at him as he led me past the guards at the back of the club and into an office. I noticed that glances the guards shot at me, and knew they probably wouldn't 'disturb' us for a while. Which would give me the time I needed.

I looked around at the office, noticing the door slightly hidden at the back. Just where I wanted to be. As soon as the door was shut, dulling the constant thumping from outside, I moved. A quick kick to the gut and a blow to the back of the head, and he was out cold.

I dragged his heavy body behind the desk and fished his security pass from inside his jacket pocket. "This is Mountaineer." I said. "I'm going in."

"Copy that Mountaineer." Vaughn said form LA. "Do you have the pass?"

"Affirmative." I said.

I grinned, feeling the adrenaline surge through my body. Wherever I had been for the past two years, I hadn't lost my edge. And, despite everything, at this moment it felt great to be back. I ran quickly to the door at the back of the room, and found the lock I was expecting. I dug into the small bag I was carrying and grabbed my small powder compact that doubled as an electronic decoder.

I quickly hooked it up to the keypad beside the lock and watched the numbers on its screen. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Cortez was still unconscious – and to make sure the door was still shut. They were. The compact gave a small beep and I glanced at the eight digit code it now displayed. Marshall was a genius. If it wasn't for him most of our missions would fail. I sent him a quick thanks, before unhooking the decoder. I swiped the security pass and typed in the code. I held my breath for a second, before the light blinked green and the door opened.

I put the decoder back into my bag and drew out my gun, before slipping through the door. It shut behind me as I took the safety off my gun and made sure there was a bullet in the chamber. "I'm through." I said into my earpiece. "Going radio silent until the security system is disabled."

"Copy that Mountaineer." Vaughn replied.

I crept down the corridor, my gun held out in front of me. I thought back to the blueprint I had memorised in Marshall's office. The control room should be the third room on the right if I remembered correctly. When I got to the door, I peered carefully inside, and saw I was right.

The only problem was there were two men in the room. I took a deep breath and hoped the gunshots wouldn't attract any attention, before I darted through the door and fired. One of the men went down with two bullets to the chest. The other man went for his gun, but I was quicker. When he was dead I turned and shut the door, hoping to delay anyone if they came after me.

I moved to a computer and hit a few keys, before digging out my lipstick from my bag. It was another one of Marshall's inventions. I hooked it up to the back of the computer and accessed the security files. While I watched in amazement, the security system shut down as Marshall's virus infiltrated the system. I unhooked the lipstick just as two red words flashed up on the screen in Spanish. 'System Disabled.'

"Security system disabled." I said.

"Confirmed." Vaughn replied. "Strike team entering building."

"Weiss?" I asked. "I'm heading down to the basement now."

"Copy that Mountaineer." Weiss said.

Grabbing my gun from where I had put it down, I crept to the door and peered out. I could see no one coming, so I slipped out into the corridor and headed for the stairs. As I raced down the first flight, I heard the echo of gunfire. It seemed the strike team had been discovered. I raced down another flight of stairs, just as the door above me opened.

Two guards ran began running down the stairs, yelling to each other when they heard my footsteps. Shit. The guards opened fire, forcing me to weave around in order to dodge them. When they stopped to reload, I risked a glance over the railing. The ground wasn't that far away. I needed to get out of the stairwell if I had any hope of getting away from the guards.

So I took a deep breath and jumped over the railing. I hit the ground and rolled, but the impact still jarred my ankles and knees. It didn't help that I was wearing high heeled boots either. I quickly got to my feet and ran through the door to my right. I could hear the fast footsteps of the guards above me.

I burst out into a corridor. I looked each way, but could find no cover to hide behind. Damn it! Then I spotted a small corridor branching of a few feet away. I raced to the corridor and just managed to get around it before the guards burst through the door behind me. Wasting no time, I positioned myself at the edge and fired around the corridor, ducking back when they shot at me again. I managed to shoot one of the guards before my clip ran out. I quickly ejected it and it hit the floor with a clatter. I slipped a fresh clip into the gun and fired again, this time managing to get the second guard.

As I began half-jogging, half-creeping down the corridor, Weiss's voice crackled in my ear. "Mountaineer, where are you?"

"En route." I said. "I'm on the basement level now."

"Copy that." Weiss replied.

I followed the sound of echoing gunfire down the corridor, and about half a minute later, I came upon the strike team. I saw a few glances in my direction, but everyone seemed to recognise me. "Weiss." I said, coming to stand beside him against the wall.

"Hey, Syd." He said.

Then he glanced at Agent Macknezie. "Mac, cover us. I'm taking Sullivan, West and Bristow."

"Yes, sir." Mackenzie said.

Weiss nodded at me, and I followed him as he ran down the corridor, two other agents behind us. Weiss stopped at the fourth door on the left, and turned to me. "Syd." He said.

I nodded. There was a similar lock on this door to the lock back in the office. I grabbed the decoder again, and hooked it up, while Weiss and the two other agents covered my back and kept a lookout. "Got it." I said, when the code flashed up on the screen.

I swiped the security pass and typed in the code. The door opened with a quiet swish. I took in the scene before me in a second and reacted just as quickly. I saw a grey haired man in a doctor's coat leaning over a man on a gurney. I recognised the man on the gurney as our missing agent, Hoffmann. "CIA!" I snapped quickly. "Freeze!" The man took one look at me and went for his gun. I didn't hesitate and shot him once in the chest.

I checked the room for anyone else, but it was empty. Weiss had already moved to the agent and was removing his gag. "Agent Hoffmann, we're from the CIA. You're going to be fine."

"Thank you." Agent Hoffmann said. "Thank you."

"Base ops." Weiss said into his earpiece. "We have the prisoner. He's okay."

As I scanned the room, my eyes rested on the grey haired man for a second. I looked back at him. His features suddenly looked very familiar to me. I could have sworn I'd seen him before. As I watched him, the man raised his head slightly and looked at me with piercing brown eyes.

"You kept your promise." He said in a thick Russian accent. "That you would kill me..." he smiled slightly. "You were always my favourite...you never broke."

I stood there in shock for a second, before rushing forward and grabbing the man. "Who the hell are you?!" I demanded. "What are you talking about? Why did the Covenant take two years of my life?"

But I was too late. As I watched the light spilled out of his eyes as he died. I took a shaky breath and tried to stop the sobs that were threatening. "Syd?" Weiss said softly from behind me. "Are you alright?"

Now was not the time to break down. I had to be strong. "I'm fine." I said as I got up. "Let's get out of here."

"No..." Hoffmann's voice interrupted. "You have to get the disk."

"The disk?" Weiss said, turning to him. "It's here?"

"I hid it in the safe of my office. I was going to hide it somewhere else, but they found me first..." Hoffmann said. "Top floor. Room 42. The code is 435F67G."

Weiss looked at me, and I nodded briefly. "Mac, I'm sending Hoffmann to you. Get out of here. Agent Bristow and I will meet you at the extraction point." He turned back to me. "Let's go."

The two of us ran out of the room and headed for the stairs as West and Sullivan took Hoffmann to where Mackenzie was waiting. I peered into the stairwell, before giving Weiss the all clear. We began running up the stairs, but after two floors, even I was beginning to pant. "How many more?" Weiss asked from behind me, out of breath.

"Don't know." I replied. "Only three, I think."

Unfortunately, it was at that moment that two more guards burst into the stairwell a floor below us. "Go!" Weiss yelled at me. "I'll catch up!"

I nodded and put on a burst of speed up the stairs, even though my legs were beginning to burn. I think the lack of food and sleep were beginning to catch up with me. I heard gunfire behind me, and resisted the urge to look over my shoulder, trusting Weiss to deal with the men.

I finally reached the top floor and began running down the corridor, glancing at room numbers. A guard burst out of a room before me, but I shot him twice in the chest before running on. I spotted 42 and ran inside. Glancing around at the room, I couldn't see a safe. But there were two paintings on the wall behind the desk. I smiled. I wonder...

The safe was behind the second painting. I quickly typed in the code Hoffmann had told me, hoping it hadn't been changed. It hadn't. The door opened with a soft electronic beep. I spotted the disk inside and grabbed it quickly. I shut the safe and replaced the painting. Pivoting, I ran out of the room and back towards the stairs.

Just as I got there, Weiss burst through the door. "Got it!" I called as I ran past.

He nodded to me and spun, following me down the stairs. "Base ops." I said as I ran. "We have the disk and are heading to the extraction point."

"Copy that Mountaineer." Vaughn said.

I kept running down the stairs, leaping over the bodies of the men that had attacked us before. I hit the ground floor out of breath, with Weiss a couple of steps behind me. "Which way?" I asked, having entered through the club. I didn't know where the strike team had entered.

"Left." Weiss panted, and I ran left.

Following the corridor, I saw a flash of moment to my right. I didn't hesitate, and fired at the movement. But whoever they were, they were good. They were gone before I could hit them. I glanced back at Weiss, only to see a man in black jump out at him. "Eric!" I yelled, just as a foot slammed into my chest.

Combined with the strength of the blow and the way I ran straight into it, the air was forced from my lungs, and I dropped my gun as I gasped for breath. When I had finally caught my breath again, and was able to think once more, I glanced up and saw man standing in front of me. He seemed vaguely familiar.

But that was all forgotten when he swung at me with a sharp kick to the head. I did the only thing I could from where I was kneeling on the floor. I threw myself to the side, ducking below the kick and rolled to my feet. The man spun quickly and backhanded me, before punching me in the stomach – or, at least, he tried to. I blocked both the backhand and the punch with ease, letting my years of training and experience in the field take over.

I lashed out with a kick to the knee, followed by breaking his nose with a punch to the face. Before he could get up, I knocked him out with a spinning kick, putting all my frustration and anger I had been feeling over the past weak into it. He slumped to the floor, out cold.

I turned to help Weiss, but was surprised to see Weiss knock his opponent to the floor with a hefty punch to the jaw. Picking up his gun from the floor, Weiss knocked the man out with the butt. He turned and saw me staring at him in surprise. "They upgraded my field rating." He said.

I nodded in sudden understanding, before picking up my own gun. We took off down the corridor once again. It didn't take long for us to get to the back door of the facility. As Weiss and I burst out of the building and into the cool Spanish night, we turned to each other and shared a smile of triumph. We had succeeded in our mission and survived. It was a great feeling.

I looked back at the building once, standing serenely in the dark sky, unlike the chaos that was probably happening inside, and followed Weiss as we walked off into the night, towards the extraction point and home.

* * *

I walked through the JTF office, tired and confused. The words of the white coated man still whirling through my mind. I had found another clue to my missing years, but the clue made little sense. The debriefing for the last mission had just finished and I was heading back to my empty apartment. I can't say that I wanted to, but it was better than staying here.

I walked up to my desk to grab my coat and purse, when something caught my eye. My eyes widened when I saw what it was. A hand bound copy of 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'. "It's a third edition." Weiss said softly from where he stood beside me. "I was going to get a first edition, but it was like, 40 thousand dollars."

"Thank you." I said, and felt the tears begin to well in my eyes.

Weiss grinned at me and I leaned over and gave him a big hug. "No problem." He said. "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah." I replied. "See you tomorrow."

With a much lighter heart and a soft smile on my face, I gathered up my coat and purse and headed back to my apartment. I stifled a yawn as I unlocked the door, and threw my coat and purse over a chair. I noticed how the late afternoon sun poured in through a window and smiled softly to myself. It was the perfect afternoon for a run. And a run was just what I needed to help order my thoughts.

I quickly changed into my sweats and grabbed my sunglasses and keys from beside the door. The beach was beautiful at this time of day – virtually empty and peaceful. I listened to the waves break against the shore as I ran beside it.

My feet pounded the pavement in a steady rhythm, clearing my thoughts and lifting my mood. I realised as I jogged that I would have to tell my father about what the doctor had said. He was connected to my disappearance somehow, that I knew. Dad would help my find out exactly how.

Just as I decided to turn back so I could call my father, I noticed the car following me. As I watched warily out the corner of my eye, the car pulled up beside me. I relaxed the tension in my body when I realised the driver was Dixon.

"Get in." he told me as he reached over and unlocked the passenger door.

I noticed the tension in his voice and did as he asked. We drove in silence up to a lookout further up the coast. When he had switched off the engine, I turned to him in curiosity. "Dixon, what is it?"

He turned to face me, his face both serious and slightly anxious. "Sydney," he began. "I was going to wait until you were more settled in, but I need your help."

"Of course." I said. "Anything." And I meant it.

"This is not going to be easy." Dixon continued. "But you have to hear it."

Dixon swallowed nervously. "Sydney, Sark has been working for the CIA for the past two and a half years. Soon after he was caught two years ago, we engineered his escape and he's been working as a double agent for us against the Covenant since then."

I sat in shock, staring at Dixon. Sark was working for the CIA? That just didn't seem right. Something else was going on.

"That's not all." Dixon added. "Since two and a half years ago, Will Tippin has been his handler, feeding his information back to us. But recently that's been getting to dangerous."

I shut my open mouth with a snap. Will had been his handler? It all seemed surreal. I smiled humourlessly. Just when I had thought I had heard all the surprises. "Where is Will now?" I asked.

"In London, decoding intel." Dixon said.

I sighed. "You want me to become Sark's new handler." I said, rather than asked.

"Yes."

I stared at the deep blue sea beyond the lookout for a moment. "Why couldn't you tell me this back at the office?"

"Because no one's supposed to know." Dixon answered. "Especially the NSC."

"Who else knows about this?"

"Me, Will, Kendall and you." Dixon said. "And you're mother. She's been feeding us odd bits of intel too."

"My mother?" That shocked me.

"I think it was more to protect you than anything else." Dixon said.

There was another moment of silence as I stared out the window. "I need to think about this." I said, feeling my gut churn in turmoil.

"I understand."

The drive back to the beachfront was tense. My mind was whirling. What the hell was I going to do? Could I become Sark's handler? I didn't know...but I was one of the few people who knew what he was like. And how treacherous he could be. But if I didn't do it, who else would? Vaughn? Weiss? My father? No. I was the only one.

Dixon pulled up at the curb where he had picked me up. "I'll do it." I told him.

He nodded and handed me a small silver phone. "Sark will contact you whenever he has intel. You can then pass it on and advise him of counter-missions."

I nodded. I knew how it worked. Silently I got out of the car and watched Dixon drive away. Then I turned and jogged slowly back to my apartment. The sun was setting beautifully over the ocean, but I barely noticed it.

When I opened my door, I found an envelope lying just beyond it. I noticed it was my father's handwriting. I sighed and picked it up. What other surprises was I in store for? The note was short and to the point...sounding just like my father.

_Sydney,_

_There is something you should know. During my digging in Lazarey's past, I discovered that he was a descendant of the Romanov family and heir to the Romanov fortune – around 18 billion dollars._

_Money that a Mr. Sark accessed a few days after Lazarey's death. I have reason to believe Mr. Sark is actually the son of Adrian Lazarey._

_I love you._

Holy shit! I sank down onto the couch, my knees suddenly weak. Adrian Lazarey has been Sark's father – whom I had killed. Seemingly in cold blood. And now I was Sark's handler. Bloody Hell.

Those same thoughts kept running around and around in my head all night, making me feel somewhat nauseous and unable to sleep. I finally drifted off around 2am, exhausted and drained.

The day down bright and sunny – the complete opposite to my mood. I still didn't know what to think about everything. Particularly, Adrian Lazarey being Sark's father. And what was worse, was that Sark probably knew I was his killer.

What the hell was I going to do?

I sighed. The only thing I could do. Go to work and wait to see what happens.


	7. Life gets Complicated

**Part Seven:**

The day dawned the same as all the others...bright and sunny, with me feeling exhausted, drained and twisted up inside. I couldn't eat anything for breakfast, I simply felt too nauseous. So instead, I drank a cup of coffee and went to work.

The morning was fairly ordinary and boring as I typed up my report for the previous mission. Unfortunately, though, Weiss had heard what the doctor had said and kept coming over to make sure I was okay. It was beginning to get on my nerves...along with the mixed stares I was getting from everyone else. Vaughn and Weiss were concerned, Mackenzie and Larson gazed at me with barely disguised suspicion and Lauren with sympathy. I didn't need their concern and sympathy. I just needed to be left alone so I could figure out what was going on in my life.

My dad stopped by my desk around lunch. "Sydney." He greeted.

"Dad." I said, grateful for the distraction.

I felt his gaze looking me up and down. "You're not eating." He said, softly. "Sydney..."

"Don't, Dad." I said just as softly. "Please. I know. I just can't eat. Or sleep."

Something of what I was feeling must have shown on my face, because my dad's expression softened. "All right. I won't press." He said.

I smiled at him. "Thank you." I said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

"Not yet." I said. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can't. I'm sorry."

My dad gave one of his rare smiles. I've always loved the way it makes his eyes light up, making them so warm. "Don't be sorry." He told me. "I know better than anyone that sometimes you need to sort through everything before you can tell anyone else."

I knew what he meant. Mom's betrayal has been a blow that I don't think my dad has ever gotten over, or ever will. He truly loved her, and I think he still does. "Well, how about lunch then?" he asked, changing the subject.

I shot him a glance. "Lunch?" I repeated, a little surprised. Dad hardly ever goes out to lunch...he's more the workaholic type. He's even worse than me.

"Yes." He confirmed. "Customarily it's the meal you eat after breakfast, but before dinner."

I couldn't help it. Dad's comment startled a short laugh out of me. "All right." I said, getting up and grabbing my purse and coat. "Where are we going?"

"Feel like Italian?" he asked as we walked through the office.

I saw a few people give us startled looks. I guess we didn't really do something like this very often. But I never doubted that my father would be there for me, if I ever needed him. Despite his flaws, I knew he would do anything he could to keep my safe and happy.

"Not really." I replied. "Chinese?"

My father shook his head. "I had that for dinner last night."

"You've got to stop living off take away, Dad." I said.

He shot me an amused glance. "Oh?" he asked.

"Hey, I'm your daughter." I said. "I get to be concerned too."

He smiled softly at me again. "Yes, I guess you do." He said.

We eventually decided on a small outdoor café near the office. We sat outside, shaded slightly by a tree. I picked at my salad, while my dad and I talked lightly about the last two years. I knew my father was trying to help me take my mind of my problems, but it just wasn't working. I just couldn't get away from them.

"Don't worry Sydney," Dad said, pushing aside his plate. "You'll get through this. You're a fighter. You will find out what happened."

I looked at Dad, and saw his concerned gaze, as if he knew the doubts I had. His simple words of reassurance comforted me more than any of the others. I couldn't help but smile at his faith in me. It was so wonderful to find someone who had no doubt I would get through this and be stronger for it. It bolstered my own hope. Dad was right. I would get through this. And I told him so.

"You're right Dad."

He nodded. "Of course I am."

I raised an eyebrow at that. And my father did the strangest thing. It was all I could do to stop my mouth falling open. He winked at me. He _winked_ at me. My father, who many thought was made of stone. As I continued to stare at him, my father called for the check.

We got up to leave, and strolled slowly back to the office. We were both reluctant to return, to spoil the almost carefree mood of lunch. It had been a long time since I had talked to my father like this, and I didn't want it to end.

"I wanted to thank you for getting me out of prison." Dad said, as we walked into the CIA building. "Not many people I know could have done that."

I looked at him. "You're my father. I couldn't do anything less."

"I'm still grateful." My father said. "Although, I would have loved to have seen Lindsay's face when you threatened him."

I smiled at the memory. "It was pretty funny, now." I said, as we entered a waiting elevator.

"He's never liked me." Dad said. "But I can't say I've been friendly to him, exactly."

I grinned at the thought of my dad being friendly to a arrogant prick like Robert Lindsay. "Well, he is a bit of an ass." I said.

My father added a few of his own pithy, less-than-flattering comments about Lindsay. I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. I know my dad doesn't show it, but he has always had a sly sense of humour.

I don't know what shocked everyone more. The fact that I was laughing as I stepped out of the elevator, or that my father was grinning. But either way, we were greeted by shocked faces – including Vaughn's. I'm not sure what I felt about that. For some reason, I got the feeling that despite everything, Vaughn expected me to stay unhappy.

I know he didn't want my life to stay so messed up – but I get the feeling I was supposed to be upset about not having him as my boyfriend anymore. He always seemed so shocked when I laughed or smiled. It was very weird.

"I'll talk to you later, Sydney." My father said, completely ignoring everyone's reaction. "I have some paperwork that isn't going to go away."

I smiled at him. "I've got some of that myself. Thanks for lunch."

My father gave me one last smile before walking away. I headed back to my desk, reluctant to get back to all the paperwork. Weiss saw me, and came wandering over. "Seems like you're getting on better with your father these days." He said.

"Yeah." I said. "We are."

He smiled. "I'm glad for you." He said. "I just came to tell you that Dixon's called a briefing in an hour."

"Thanks." I replied.

"No problem." He said and left me to get back to my paperwork.

I wondered what it was about. I hadn't heard anything around the office, so I figured it was probably something to do with the Hoffmann's disk. I felt a small shiver of anticipation. I hadn't realised how much I looked forward to my missions these days. Although I think it was just because I could get away from my problems, rather than anything else...except, I'm not exactly going to be sad when we finally destroy the Covenant.

* * *

An hour later, everyone was sitting in the conference room once again. Dixon walked in, looking slightly harried, and I wondered what was up. I didn't have much time to wonder, because Dixon got straight to the point.

"Two hours ago, we finished decoding and analysing the disk that Agents Bristow and Weiss retrieved from Spain." Dixon began. "It contained a lot of useful information about the Covenant – as well as surprising development. As well as grabbing as much power as possible over the past two years, after the collapse of the Alliance and K-Directorate, the Covenant has also set up an infrastructure of information gathering. They have brought together some of the most devout Rambaldi followers and as a result, they currently have ten out of the fifteen still missing Rambaldi artefacts."

Dad looked at Dixon and took over. "We have discovered that the Covenant have set up a meeting with this man," He said, indicating the picture on the screen behind him. "Philippe Trevallyn. French mercenary and Rambaldi follower. He is responsible for transporting the last Rambaldi artefact to the Covenant ."

I stared at the photo of Trevallyn. He was in his early thirties, with muddy brown hair and dark eyes. He didn't look that dangerous, but I knew for a fact that he was. "Trevallyn has never met the Covenant agents he's to meet with to hand the artefact over. So the plan is to apprehend the Covenant agents and send Agents Bristow and Vaughn in their place." Dad continued.

"Agent Weiss, you'll coordinate the apprehension of Andreas Caplan and Monique Lee. Sydney, Vaughn, you'll attend the meeting in their place. We need you to retrieve the artefact." Dixon said. "Marshall will brief you on your identities and optech. You leave in an hour."

We all got up to leave. I was kind of glad to have a mission to concentrate on. I'm not sure I had quite accepted the whole situation with Sark yet, and it was making me a little crazy. It just seemed to strange. "Weiss, Mackenzie, will you stay behind for a moment?" Dixon asked, breaking into my thoughts.

I left the room, as Weiss and Mackenzie hung back, no doubt going to plan their intercept of the Covenant agents. "Good luck." My father said from beside me, as I saw Vaughn approach.

"Thanks." I said, as he left and Vaughn walked up.

"Hey, Syd." He said. It felt weird for him to be calling my Syd again, but in light of the fact I was going on my next mission with him, I didn't say anything.

"Hi." I greeted.

"Shall we go and see Marshall?" he asked.

"Sure." I replied.

We walked towards Marshall's office in silence, neither of us knowing quite what to say. "Are you okay working with me again?" Vaughn finally asked.

I turned to look at him. "Of course." I said. "Why would I have a problem?"

"Well, we weren't exactly on the best of terms a while ago."

I winced slightly at the memory. "Sorry." I said.

"It's fine." Vaughn said.

He would have said something else then, I think, but before he could Marshall came bustling out of his office and spotted us. We spent the next half an hour going over our identities and optech, with more intel to read on the plane, and Vaughn never got a chance to say whatever he had wanted to.

The flight to Hamburg, Germany – where the meeting was being held – was long and rather boring. I had finished memorising all the information about Monique Lee halfway through the flight, leaving me with nothing to do but sleep.

I curled up towards the back of the plane, the only sound being the odd tap of a key or shuffle of papers as Vaughn finished reading all his information. I lay down and let my tired body rest. I must confess, I haven't slept well in days, and it wasn't long before the dull sound of the plane's engines lulled me into sleep.

* * *

_Once again, I felt myself running down the corridor. I felt the same feeling of separation as before, as if I wasn't quite there. The numbers flew past, counting down, but this time I found the door I was looking for. 210. I flung open the door and felt my grip tighten on the gun I carried._

_I was vaguely aware of a figure leaping out at me. Suddenly I felt a sharp and burning pain in my abdomen and looked down in horror at the large knife protruding from beside my bellybutton. My hand came away, red with blood._

_My gun fell from my slack grip, as I staggered slightly, my body on fire with pain. "Sydney!" a familiar voice roared, fear evident in his tone. I knew this was the man who had been running behind me, my partner, but for some reason, I couldn't remember his name._

_I heard gunshots, but they were muffled and my vision blurred. Suddenly strong arms were around me, catching me as I fell. "Hold on, Sydney." The familiar male voice said again. "Please, love. Hold on."_

* * *

I sat bolt upright with a gasp, Vaughn's concerned gaze hovering in front of me. "Syd, are you okay?" he asked. "You were struggling."

I sighed and ran a hand over my face. "Yeah." I said. "It was just a nightmare."

"Are you sure?" Vaughn pressed.

I forced myself to smile. "I'm fine. Really."

"Okay." Vaughn still looked doubtful, but he retreated back to his seat.

Once he was gone, I took another shaky breath and shivered. My hand was still pressed again my jumper, directly above my scar. And my scar still burned like fire. I raised the edge of my sweater up, tracing my scar with a finger and shivered again. I had lied to Vaughn. I wasn't fine. I was a long way from fine. Because that hadn't been a nightmare. It had been a memory. I was sure of it.

And I knew with shaking certainty that it was the memory of how I got my mysterious scar. A memory of my stabbing. I shuddered again, scared. Who was the shadowy figure who had stabbed me? And more importantly, whose arms had cradled me and who had called out my name? Who was this shadowy man I trusted so much?

I could find no answers to my questions, and after a while I sighed in frustration. It seemed there was nothing more I could do to help these dreams make sense...now, anyway. I'd talk to Marshall and my father about them when I got back. The rest of the flight was uneventful as I focused on the mission. I would worry about the rest when it was over.

* * *

Evening was falling and there was a chill in the air. Vaughn and I stood in front of our dark rented car. We were standing on an empty airstrip on the outskirts of Hamburg, Germany. I was dressed like a mercenary, in boots, jeans and a black turtleneck sweater under a leather jacket. I also wore a wig of long, straight black hair. I felt the cool metal of my gun against my skin at the small of my back, where I had shoved it into my waistband, under the jacket. Vaughn stood a few feet away, dressed similar to me.

As we watched, small lights came on along the runway, and I could hear the distant throbbing of a plane engine. Vaughn and I stayed where we were as the sound got louder, finally roaring overhead as it came in to land. It was only a small plane, but expensive and well maintained.

The plane taxied to a stop and the door opened. A man jumped out, followed by a second. I recognised the second man as Philippe Trevallyn. He walked over to us. "You must be the Covenant representatives." He said with a faint French accent.

"We are." Vaughn said. "Andreas Caplan and Monique Lee."

"Do you have it?" I asked.

Trevallyn waved the other man forward, and I noticed he carried a case. The man opened it and swung it round, revealing the artefact we had come to retrieve. I recognised it from the photos Marshall had shown me.

I walked forward, towards the man with the case. "The Covenant thanks you." Vaughn said, as I retrieved the case.

By now I was so taunt, I felt like I would snap. Surely it couldn't be this easy? Nothing was this easy in my life. Something always went wrong. And something did. But I can't say it surprised me. I was ready for it.

Just as I was putting the case containing the artefact into the rented car, Trevallyn's cell phone rang. He answered quietly, walking away from us and back towards the plane. I think, up until that moment, he had thought we had finished business. He was halfway to the plane by the time he had finished his conversation.

Instead of getting into the plane like I had expected, Trevallyn turned. "Oh, Miss Lee?" he called. "I have something else for you."

I shot Vaughn a glance that told him to stay were he was, near the driver's door, and walked forward to meet Trevallyn. "What is it?" I asked when I got to him.

"Some more information." He said. "I left it on the plane."

Wary, I followed him to the plane and watched him climb inside. Then suddenly there was a gun in his hand – pointed directly at me. I stood there for a second, ready to flee, but there was no cover. As if sensing this, the other man pressed a gun barrel into my back. I knew from the way they held the guns that Vaughn wouldn't be able see them.

"Get in the plane." Trevallyn snapped.

Carefully keeping my hands in full view, I climbed into the case and Trevallyn followed. "Keep your hands were I can see them!" Trevallyn said went I made to drop them.

I did as he asked, suppressing a shiver of fear. "Why are you doing this?" I asked Trevallyn.

"Why?" he repeated. "Because I know who you are, Miss Thorne. And I also know the Covenant want you back."

"Miss Thorne?" I said. The name didn't mean anything to me...did it? Suddenly I was struck by a feeling of familiarity and decided to fish for information. "I don't know who you are talking about. But I am not this Miss Thorne you seem to think I am."

"No?" Trevallyn asked. "So you're not Julia Thorne?"

"No."

"Then I'll just kill you. Because whoever you are, you are not Covenant."

I swallowed as Trevallyn brought his gun up to aim at my chest, but didn't hesitate. I couldn't afford to. I kicked his gun out of his hand with a sharp roundhouse, and followed up to a spinning kick to the head. Trevallyn staggered backwards, blinking groggily, and I took my opportunity. I ran past Trevallyn, and burst out of the plane and past the other man.

The man looked surprised – I caught his expression as I sprinted past. He opened fire, but I was already too far ahead. Trevallyn joined in as I raced away. Vaughn had reacted as soon as he heard the gunshots, and he screeched to a halt in front of me. I leapt into the car, and Vaughn roared away, even before I had a chance to close the door.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

"I'm fine." I said, as we disappeared out of sight of the airstrip. "Let's just go home."

* * *

I sighed with tiredness as I walked in the door to my apartment. I dumped my jacket and bag on the couch and slumped down next to them, exhausted – both physically and mentally. What was going on? I had told Dad about Trevallyn calling me Julia Thorne, but Dad thought it was probably a case of mistaken identity. I didn't think so. The name sounded too familiar.

I was about to get up and have a shower, when I was startled out of my sleepy mood by the ringing of the phone. I picked up the phone from the table beside me, and was startled to hear the ring tone...and the ringing kept going. What the hell..? Then I remembered. The mobile that Dixon had given me.

Sark.

Just what I needed. A friendly phone call from the local cold blooded psychopath. What a wonderful way to end the day. Reluctantly, I dug the silver phone out of my handbag and answered it. "Hello?"

"Agent Bristow." Said a familiar voice with a British accent. "Meet me at the pier. Half an hour."

The phone went dead before I could reply.

* * *

So what else could I do? I went to the pier. Sark looked just like I remembered, even leaning up against the pier railing. Same Armani suit, tailored to perfection. Same cold blue eyes. Same tousled blonde hair, even if it was a bit shorter now.

"Sark." I said as I stepped up to the railing beside him.

"Agent Bristow." He said, keeping his eyes fixed on the dark water. "You'll have to forgive the location, but I thought it was fitting."

I'll just bet he did. He probably got some sadistic pleasure from meeting me in the same place I used to meet Vaughn when I was a double agent.

"No games." I snapped, harsher than I had intended. "Do you have the information?"

"What, no: how are you? No sarcastic comebacks?" he said. "I'm rather disappointed actually. I mean, you didn't even call me an arrogant bastard."

Suddenly I smiled and let out a soft laugh. I couldn't help it. Sark sounded just the same. Cocky, sarcastic and like he knew something you didn't – which he probably did. It was just such a relief to find there was one thing in my life that _hadn't_ changed.

I glanced at him and saw the stunned expression on my face at my unexpected response. "Glad to see some things haven't changed." I said. "You're still the same cocky son-of-a-bitch I remember."

"Happy to help." He said. "So you don't remember anything of the last two years?"

"No...nothing." Was that really a hint of sadness in his voice?

"I didn't really want to believe it." He said.

We stood there for a moment in silence, before he spoke again. "All the recent information I was able to obtain is on a disk between the railing and the pillar on your right. I included everything I could find about you for the last two years."

"Thank you." I said, surprised that Sark would do such a thing.

"I'll let you know the details of my next mission."

"Fine."

"Well, Agent Bristow. It was so nice to catch up." He said finally, disdain clear in his voice.

"The displeasure was all mine." I shot back.

He chuckled softly, before walking away. I waited a few minutes before retrieving the disk, watching the lights dance on the inky water.


	8. A Clue and a Relevation

**Part Eight:**

I woke up more tired than I had been before I had finally managed to go to sleep. I finally managed to drag myself out of bed at about 10am – very thankful it was a Saturday and I didn't have to face anyone from work. Even the CIA let's you have the weekend off if there's no international crisis.

I spent the weekend going over the information Sark had given me about Julia Thorne. I'd already given Dixon the information on the Covenant. There wasn't much he had given me...but enough for me to gather that they..._we_ had worked together. I still had problems thinking of myself as her. I had no memories, but more than that, Julia Thorne seemed to be everything I wasn't. Which actually made a strange amount of sense? Why pick a cover for someone, when the whole point was for that person to forget who they were?

Because that was the disturbing thing. It seemed that I had spent the last two years of my life as Julia Thorne...after the Covenant 'brainwashed' me into believing that's who I was. I knew from my father that it was impossible for me to be brainwashed. So that left only one conclusion. I had known exactly who I was and what I was doing. Which didn't make it any easier to accept.

I sighed and got up from my laptop, on which I was reading the disk. I began to pace the room. Okay, let's deal with the facts. Fact One: the Covenant had kidnapped me after my fight with Allison Doren and faked my death. Fact Two: Nine months later I appear – according to Sark's information anyway – as a Covenant operative under the name Julia Thorne. Fact Three: A few weeks ago all traces of Julia Thorne disappeared.

Aside from that all I had was lists of tasks I had done on behalf of the Covenant and places I was known to have been. It wasn't much to go on, but it was a whole lot more than I had had before. And I was a little closer to discovering where I had been. At least I knew who was responsible. But I still had a million questions. What had happened during the nine months after I had supposedly died and Julia Thorne had come to life? Did the Covenant spend the whole time brainwashing me? And why the hell was I working for the Covenant?

I sighed and stopped pacing. This was getting me nowhere. I read the rest of the information, hoping for another clue. And I got one. I actually sent a whisper of thanks to Sark – not that I'd ever admit it. Highlighted towards the bottom of the page was a small note. Apparently, Sark knew of a safety deposit box I used in Rome, which contained something that I thought was very important.

So there it was. A clue. Now all I had to do was figure out a way to get to Rome. I couldn't exactly ask the CIA to go, because they would want to know why. And I wasn't going to tell them. And I couldn't ask anyone else to retrieve them for me, either. They wouldn't be able to get it. I certainly would make sure that all safety deposit boxes I had could only be opened by me.

As it was, my luck held and the perfect opportunity came on Monday. Thanks to the information Sark had given us, not that Dixon said it was from him, we now had the location of one of the Rambaldi artefacts the Covenant had in their possession. And it just so happened to be in Rome.

My father met me as I walked into the debriefing room. "Sydney, how are you feeling?"

Oh, if only he knew. "Better." I said, giving him a smile. I wasn't really...I was more confused than anything else at the moment.

"Good." He smiled.

Unfortunately we were interrupted at that moment, but Dixon entering the room. Everyone quickly took their seats and fell quiet. "Thanks to some new information, we have been able to locate one of the Rambaldi artefacts that the Covenant have in their possession." He said. "It's being held as part of a private collection in Rome."

"The owner of the collection is this man, Gianni Bianchi." Dixon continued, as a photo flashed up on the screen behind him.

The man was a handsome man with iron grey hair and intelligent eyes. "Sydney." Dixon said, grabbing my attention. "Your mission is to break into the vault where the artefact is kept and switch the artefact with a decoy. Weiss and Vaughn will be your back up."

So once again I was going on a mission. I spent the afternoon in Marshall's office going over the optech and the plan, until it was time to leave. I couldn't help but feel slightly happier as the plane lifted off the ground – I might just find out some more information on where I had been for my missing two years. It was enough to make any girl happy.

* * *

I knew that I would have no opportunity to check out the safety deposit box after the mission, so as soon as Vaughn and Weiss began to set up the surveillance equipment, I excused myself to go for a walk.

The streets of Rome were busy for this time in the morning, the many church bells still singing out their morning song. I made my way through the crowd and was suddenly struck by the familiarity of the scene. Like I had spent a long time in this city.

My musings were interrupted by my arrival at the Hotel Gracia. I walked into the elegant lobby and up to the reception desk. "Ciao." I greeted in Italian.

The dark haired receptionist looked up, before giving me a dazzling smile. "Signorina Thorne!" she said, obviously pleased to see me. "How are you?"

"Good." I replied in Italian – surprised at the way the language came so easily to me. It never used to.

"And how is that sexy man of yours?" she continued brightly. "Away on business?"

"My sexy man?" I echoed, confused.

The woman shot me a glance, as if to say, don't be stupid. "You know, the one with tousled blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes, who's always dressed in Armani..." she said. "...and the one you can keep your hands off?"

I was surprised at her description of a man who could only be Sark – and I didn't even want to think about my hands on him! This was Sark, for God's sake! The man I hated!

I pasted a knowing smile on my face. "Oh, _that_ one." I said. "Yes, he is." That I could be pretty sure of, because Sark was always doing 'business' of some sort.

"That one, she says." The receptionist said, laughing. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like to see my safety deposit box." I said.

"Ah." She said, as if knowing exactly what I meant. "Marco!"

"Si, Luciana?" A tall man answered, coming over to the reception desk.

"Take Signorina Thorne to her box."

"Si." Marco said, before turning to me. "_Bella_!" he greeted, before bending and kissing the back of my hand.

"Marco." I said warmly, wondering how the hell I knew him!

"Come, Signorina." He said.

I followed the man down a series of narrow corridors and stairs and through a metal door. Beyond the door was room covered with deposit boxes. Marco walked over to box 1063 and opened it for me. "Thank you." I said.

Marco smiled. "Anything for you, _Bella_." He replied.

I opened the box, while Marco hung back, giving me privacy. I was grateful for that, not knowing what to expect. Carefully, I peered inside – and didn't find anything that I had expected. I shot a glance at Marco, but he had retreated to the doorway, so he couldn't see what I was doing.

Carefully, I drew out the gun that was inside. Somehow, I didn't think the modified Glock would be traceable. I slipped the gun into the waistband of my jeans, at the small of my back, and it immediately felt comforting and familiar. I covered it with my shirt and looked at the three remaining items – a key, an envelope and a small jewellery box.

The key was unmarked, so I shoved it into my pocket. The envelope only had one word on it: Sydney. I took it out and noticed it had already been opened. Maybe I had read it before. I pulled out the letter written in the same practical hand as my name on the envelope. It said:

_Sydney,_

_I hope my gift will help you remember the times we shared – and still share. Just know that, no matter what, I will always love you, because it was you who taught me how to love again._

_Love always,_

_J._

I smiled, touched by the feeling in the words. Who was this mysterious 'J'? And what had happened to him? Where was he?

I drew out the small jewellery box and opened it. I gasped softly what I saw what was inside. Nestled in the black velvet of the inside was a beautiful ruby ring. The ruby was so dark it was almost black and glinted like blood when it caught the light. It was set in a delicate gold wire atop a thin gold band.

It was beautiful. I loved it – and I got the feeling the mysterious 'J' – whoever he was – had known that. I shut the jewellery box and turned to Marco. He nodded, locked the security box, and escorted me back to the lobby.

"Good luck, _Bella._" He said.

I looked at him in confusion. Good luck for what?

"You said if you ever came back for these, you were going after him."

"Him?" I echoed.

"You never said his name, but you did say he had betrayed you and your father for many years." Marco said. "A man you once trusted like family."

There was only one man that could be. Arvin Sloane.

Marco's words confirmed my growing suspicions. Sloane was behind my disappearance – which meant he was part of the Covenant...and in violation of his pardon agreement. I can't say I was either surprised of regretful. Sloane deserved to die for all he had done.

"You're right." I said. "I am." Now that I knew who was responsible, I would make sure he faced justice – one way or another.

"Then be careful, _Bella_." He said, softly.

"I will." I smiled at Marco – a genuine smile for his concern. "And thank you."

He shrugged as I left, waving goodbye to Luciana on the way out.

* * *

Gianni Bianchi's museum was located near central Rome and the vault I was supposed to gain access to, was beneath it. It wasn't hard to get in – I just followed the crowd. I was dressed as what I could only guess was meant to be an art student. I wore a black turtleneck, my hair in pigtails and a pair of black rimmed glasses. I wandered around the gallery, looking at the paintings and trying to find a way into the vault.

"Okay, Syd." Vaughn's voice came through my earpiece. "The door leading the vault should be on your right."

I glanced to my right where I saw a door marked 'Privatio' – 'Private' in Italian. That must be it. I strolled to the sculpture near it, pretending to study the artwork. "Are the cameras down?" I asked.

"In five seconds." Vaughn answered. "Now. You have seven minutes."

"Copy that." I replied. "Going radio silent until exiting the vault."

"Copy that." Vaughn answered.

I glanced carefully around me, but noticed no one close enough to see what I was doing. I walked casually forward, before slipping quietly through the door on my right. In front of me was a narrow flight of concrete stairs and beyond that a long concrete corridor. I crept down the stairs, not really expecting to meet anyone, but wary anyway.

Carefully, I slipped out my tranquilizer gun and held it in front of me. It wouldn't be much help in a gunfight, but it was perfect for taking out a guard or two, quietly. Which was just what I needed. A minute later I found myself outside a small metal door, with a keypad lock beside it.

I reached into my bag and drew out my makeup compact – the same one I had used on the mission to Germany. I hooked it up quickly and watched the red numbers decode. When I had the code, I quickly unhooked the compact and typed in the code. The door swished open almost silently, and I crept to the side, gun at the ready.

Knowing I would only get one chance at this, I spun around the corner quickly, aimed and shot the security guard in the neck. The dart knocked him out in an instant. I ran quickly to the inner door of the vault. I hoped those cameras were offline as I spotted the security camera inside the antechamber.

Taking a deep breath and glancing at my watch – 5 minutes left – I hooked up the compact again, and watched it decode the number I needed. Unfortunately, that was not the only thing I needed to open this lock. I needed a fingerprint as well. It was just as well I had one. Grunting slightly, I dragged the guard's unconscious form to the vault door and used his fingerprint, with the right code, to open the inner door.

As the door opened, I couldn't help thinking this had almost been too easy...I mean nothing in my life seemed to be easy at the moment, so why should this be any different? Knowing I couldn't do anything about it, but be careful and keep and eye out, I stepped into the vault. Glancing over all the objects, I dismissed almost everything – I didn't want or need any of the paintings or sculptures in the vault – just the Rambaldi artefact.

When I spotted it, I checked it over carefully; making sure no alarms would be triggered when I removed it from the shelf. I couldn't see any, so I grabbed it quickly. Opening my bag, I drew out the decoy, which was carefully hidden within a present box. Slipping the real artefact into the box, I placed the decoy on the shelf and walked back out of the vault.

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding and relaxed the grip on my gun when I saw the antechamber was still empty, except for the still unconscious body of the guard. I shut the door to the vault and it locked automatically. I slipped back out through the outer door and locked that too.

"Mountaineer to Boy Scout." I said.

"Come in Mountaineer." Vaughn's voice said over my earpiece.

"I have the artefact and am about to make my way out." I replied.

"Copy that." He said.

Now for the tricky part. Slipping back out into the museum. It had been easy enough on the way in, but I couldn't see who was near the door this time. I paused at the door, listening carefully. I could feel my pulse start to race, as I became aware of just how little time I had left before the cameras would come back online. 15 seconds.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door carefully and slipped out, hoping no one would see me. It seemed luck was on my side today, because no one was. Adjusting my bag slightly, I began to stroll carefully towards the exit. This was the most nerve wracking part of the mission – as I knew from past experience. I had to force myself to pause and contemplate some of the other artworks.

About five minutes later, I walked out the entrance, and past the security officer at the admissions desk. My heart was beating so loudly with a combination of fear and anticipation; I could almost swear the guard could hear it. So you can imagine my shock when he called out to me.

"Scusa, Signorina?" The guard called.

I tensed; convinced I had been found out. I tensed automatically, getting ready to run or fight. I was close enough to the door and the crowds outside to escape if I needed to. "Signorina?" the guard called.

I turned, a polite smile on my face and praying it wasn't what I thought it was. "You dropped your pen." The guard told me in Italian.

I fought not to grin in relief at the news. I wasn't caught at all! "Grazie, Signor." I replied, and gave the guard a smile.

Taking my offered pen, I turned and walked out of the museum and into the Italian crowd, breathing a large sigh of relief and willing my nerves to calm down.

* * *

By the time I had returned to the JTF office and typed up my mission report, I was feeling exhausted and drained. The adrenaline had long since worn off and my thoughts and emotions had been chasing themselves around my head for hours.

I had typed my report mostly on the plane flight home – hoping in part, not to have to talk to Vaughn – and was just about to hand it into Dixon. I had yet to tell Dixon what I had learnt about the last two years, but I wanted to find out more before I did. I sighed, and knocked on Dixon's door, before opening it and poking my head in.

"Sydney." Dixon greeted warmly. "Come in."

I smiled at him. "I just wanted to hand in my mission report." I said, handing him a disk.

"You could have sent it to me." Dixon said.

"I know, I..." I trailed off.

"Syd, are you okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yes...no...I don't know!" I sat down in front of Dixon's desk. "I'm so confused and frustrated." I admitted.

Dixon smiled wryly at me. "You always seem so collected and capable, that it's sometimes so hard to remember you're still reeling from everything that happened to you." He mused.

"Really?" I asked, slightly surprised.

"Yes." Dixon said.

I sighed. "Well, if you want to know the truth," I said, "it feels like my life is still falling apart."

Dixon nodded thoughtfully. "My suggestion would be to take a few days off, sort some of this out."

"Dixon...thank you, but I'm not sure that would really help."

"Sure it will." Dixon said. "Go on a proper holiday, Syd. Fly somewhere exotic. Go sightseeing. You'll feel better, I promise."

I smiled gratefully at him, the idea sounding good. "Are you sure?" I asked.

Dixon looked at me. "Of course." He smiled at me. "I just want you to be happy, Syd."

"Thanks, Dixon."

"Good. Now get out of here. I don't want to see your face until Monday!"

Smiling, I got up and left. To tell you the truth, a holiday did sound good – particularly with Dixon's subtle approval of my search for the truth. I don't think he knew anything about it as of yet, but he knew I was doing something. We had been partners for too long at SD-6 for it to be otherwise.

Since, by now, it was late evening, I managed to avoid the few remaining agents in the office, which was a relief. I just wanted to get out of there. I sighed and took a deep breath of the cool evening air when I got into my car. I was outta here! And I knew just where to go...

I cursed loudly when I heard my cell phone ring. I swore again when I realised who it was. "Hello." I said coolly, answering the phone.

"Meet me at the lookout." Sark's clipped voice told me before the line went dead.

Sighing, I hung up and started the car. I wondered what he wanted now.

* * *

The cool sea breeze whipped at my hair and I watched the waves pounding the base of the cliff below me. Right now I felt like those waves – hitting the same problem over and over again...not knowing what had happened during my missing two years. But, just like the waves, I knew I would eventually succeed – all I needed was time.

I turned when I heard a car pull up behind me and saw a black Jag. I smiled slightly. It was Sark – he was the only person I knew who drove expensive black cars. He opened his tinted window. "Get in." he said.

I felt a small feeling of apprehension at getting into the same car as Sark, but ruthlessly suppressed it. I wouldn't let him see my fear. I walked around to the passenger side and got in, enjoying the feel of the comfortable leather seats. "So," I said as Sark pulled away form the lookout. "What's up?"

"The Covenant has given me a new mission." Sark said, his tone serious. "You'll find he relevant information in the glove box."

"It's nice to see you too, Sark." I said, opening the glove box and pulling out a manila folder. "Well, maybe _nice_ isn't the word..."

"Do you have a counter mission?" he interrupted.

I turned to him, taking in his serious expression and the tense way he was gripping the steering wheel. It was so not like Sark to pass up an opportunity to try and get under my skin. "Okay, what's wrong?" I asked, all teasing aside.

"Nothing." He said, tersely.

"Bull shit." I told him.

Sark shot me a cold glance. "I wasn't aware your role as my handler included counselling services."

"It doesn't."

"Then you don't need to know. What's my counter mission?"

"Oh, cut the crap, Sark." I snapped, angry now. "I need to know what's up in case you mess up!"

"I never mess up." Sark said icily.

"There's always a first time." I shot back sweetly.

Sark concentrated on driving and didn't reply. I wondered what was wrong. He still hadn't answered me, and somehow I got the feeling that he wasn't going to. He seemed so, well, tense. It was really weird.

Silently, I opened the folder, pushing thoughts of Sark's behaviour out of my head. I began to read, ignoring the now tense atmosphere in the car. Clearly written by Sark, the information was concise and to the point. It seemed the Covenant wanted Sark to check out one of the leaders of the Western European cell and verify his loyalty.

Suddenly a thought struck me. "This would bring you into contact with the cell's mainframe computer, which would have access to all Covenant information?" I asked, all anger forgotten.

"Yes." Sark agreed. "Although, most likely, it would all be encoded."

"And that's the least of our problems." I mused. "There are bound to be other security fail safes."

Sark smirked at me, before turning back to the road. "You're forgetting the Covenant _want_ me to access those files." He said. "They've given me a bypass code."

"Then you can make a copy of the information." I grinned. There was bound to be information on Julia Thorne amongst all those files!

"No, actually, I can't."

He couldn't? Sure, he could. Easily. I felt my temper flare. I wanted, no _needed_ that information! And if he was refusing just because he didn't want to risk it...

As if sensing my thoughts, Sark explained. "The mainframe is designed so no one can download information directly from it." He said. "You have to read it on the computer."

"Oh." I said, my anger deflating.

"Is the information really that important to the CIA?" Sark asked, shooting me a glance. "Or is it maybe because the information is so important to you?"

I hated the way Sark always seemed to be able to read my mind. Before I could answer him though, not that I really needed to, he continued. "You could always come with me, you know." He said.

I stared at him in shock. "What?" I asked, completely surprised.

"You could always come with me." Sark repeated. "I've always said we'd work well together, Sydney. Besides, no one knows I'm coming."

I thought about it, still surprised at the offer and slightly fearful it would be a trap of some sort. But when I thought about the information I could gain from it...I confess it wasn't hard. "I'll go." I said.

"And the countermission?" Sark asked, a faint smirk on his face.

"Just make sure you find out that this guy is disloyal." I said.

"This guy?" Sark repeated, sounding affronted by my vague description.

"Raphael Bennetti." I said. "The leader of the Western European cell."

I looked at him and noticed the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. I narrowed my eyes at his teasing, but didn't reply. I didn't think it would be too wise to piss him off at this moment. "So," I asked instead. "Where are we going?"

"Switzerland." Sark told me. "Bennetti is holding a party tomorrow night."

* * *

It didn't take long for me to pack a bag or book a flight to Italy – where, according to all reports, I would be spending the next few days lazing in the sun. But in reality I would be flying to Switzerland tonight on Sark's private plane. Unfortunately, I was still a little apprehensive about the whole thing. I had spent years running after Sark...and I wasn't quite sure I could trust him now, either.

I knew thinking about it would only make me feel tense and frustrated; I pushed those thoughts from my head and decided to take a quick nap before meeting Sark. I needed to be alert and ready when I met him – not only in case it was a trap, but also for any games of his own he might be playing. I wasn't going to get involved in that.

I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes, trying to relax. Thankfully, it didn't take me that long to drift off into a doze. I had set the alarm for two hours later, and I hoped I felt better when I awoke.

* * *

_Once again, I got a vague sensation of running. Doors flashed by my gaze, but somehow I got the feeling everything was being fast forwarded or something. Suddenly I was back outside the same door. 210. I flung open the door and felt my grip tighten on my gun._

_Suddenly a figure in black leapt out at me, and I recognised the features. Francie...or rather Allison Doren. Francie was dead. I felt the same anger I had felt when we had fought the last time bubble in my veins. The bitch had killed one of my best friends and tried to kill the other. And I was going to kill her._

_Unfortunately, before I could fire a shot, Allison struck. I caught the blur of motion as she drove her fist towards my stomach. I caught the glint of light reflecting off metal as she moved. Then there was a sudden pain near my belly button, and I looked down in morbid fascination. A large knife stood out from my skin and I could feel blood welling wetly around the blade._

_The gun dropped from my hand as I gasped in pain. I pressed my hands to my abdomen and the came away red. By now the pain was running like red hot agony around my body. I swayed and dropped to my knees, gritting my teeth in order to hold onto consciousness. You wouldn't think something like this would hurt so much._

"_Die, bitch." Allison said, as she watched me._

"_Sydney!" A familiar voice roared, fearful._

_I watched Allison's eyes widen in surprise and fear. Suddenly the sound of three gunshots sounded, echoing loudly in my ears. The shots all caught Allison in the chest and she staggered backward with the force. The fourth shot hit her right between the eyes, and she fell backward, dead._

_I was feeling faint as I watched the shooter walk forward. My partner, I remembered. The man who had been following me. The man stood over Allison's body and let off another two shots, as if to make sure she stayed dead._

_The world began to fade around me as I began to sway more widely. My eyes slipped shut, and I fell, only to feel strong arms catch me before I hit the ground. I felt those same arms cradle me, as his voice surrounded me, soothing me. Everything would be all right._

"_Hold on, Sydney." He said. "Please, love. Hold on."_

_For a moment I let his soothing voice surround me and I began to drift into unconsciousness, but suddenly I felt an urge to open my eyes and look at the man who was cradling me so tenderly in his arms. I struggled but finally managed to do it. And when I opened my eyes I found myself staring into a pair of very familiar blue eyes. Blue eyes that were looking at me in concern and fear._

_My strength gave out then and my eyes fell shut again. Unconciousness surrounded me. My last thought was simply a name. Then name of the man with the blue eyes._

_Julian Sark._

* * *

I sat bolt upright in bed, the blankets a mass of twisted material beneath me. Oh, hell no. No way. This could not be happening to me. This was some sort of weird dream, it had to be...

And yet, when I thought about it, the dream had a ring of absolute truth to it. A feeling that was just so...right. Something I couldn't dispute, no matter how much I wanted to. I took a deep but shaky breath and let it out slowly. I glanced at the clock and noticed it was time to get up.

I felt a shiver of fear at the thought of facing Sark, now that I knew he had known me during my missing two years...and had seemingly known that I had not been brainwashed into thinking I was Julia Thorne. That was the thought that scared me the most.

But I needed that information. I had to figure out what exactly had happened to me. And Sark wouldn't have to know I remembered anything. Because I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him. I sighed again and got up off my bed. Could my life get any more messed up?

On second thought, don't answer that. I don't want to know.

Because I was going on 'holiday' I dressed in a loose sundress and sandals with a light sweater on top. I made my way to the airport before putting my car in long term storage. The airport was relatively crowded and I carefully weaved my way through, wheeling a small suitcase behind me.

I smiled faintly when I heard the boarding call for the flight from LA to Rome – the one I was supposed to be on. I ducked into a nearby toilet and then into one of the cubicles. Once inside and hidden from view, I slipped off the sandals and sundress, revealing the short black skirt and top I was wearing underneath. Next, I slipped on a pair of knee high boots and a bright red wig. A pair of sunglasses completed my disguise.

I slipped out of the cubicle and smiled politely at the woman by the sink, before making a show of fixing my hair and makeup. I left the toilet and slid back into the crowd. Ten minutes later, I stood outside a private gate towards the back of the airport. Sark was waiting.

"Sydney." He greeted.

I nodded. "Let's go." I said.

He smiled. "Of course." He replied.

Together, we made our way onto the plane. I raised my eyebrows at the luxurious decor. "You don't do anything by halves, do you?" I asked.

"No." Sark said. "Why settle for less when you can afford more?"

I smiled, but even to me it felt fake. I reached up and removed my wig and sunglasses, not needing them anymore. Absently, I ran a hand through my hair as I leaned back in my chair. "So, what's the plan?" I asked.

Sark tossed me a passport. "Your name is Kitty St. James." He said, as he smirked at me. "My date."

I raised an eyebrow at him and opened the passport. To say I still felt weird after my dream was an understatement. I narrowed my eyes when I saw my photo – complete with platinum blonde hair and plenty of cleavage. "I'm supposed to be a blonde ditz?" I asked.

"You need to be the type of woman who would hang off a wealthy businessman's arm." Sark said. "We need to fit in, Sydney."

I bet he had a great time thinking that up. "Sure." I said, somewhat sarcastically – although he did have a point. "But blonde?"

"Do you have a problem with blondes?"

"Only you." I retorted.

Sark smiled. "I'll be Marcus Trent." He continued. "Wealthy businessman and son of Daniel Trent, CEO of Trent Industries. I'll be attending on behalf of my father."

"Won't that be risky?" I asked.

"I have enough of a resemblance to Marcus Trent to pass for him, for an evening." He replied.

He gave me a level look. "Once we're inside the party, it's a simple matter of avoiding the guards."

"Fine." I said. "How long until we get there?"

Sark smirked at me. "Ah, come now, Sydney. You're not bored of our conversation already?"

"No, Sark." I said. "But I'd quit while you're still ahead."

And so began our flight to Switzerland.


	9. Memories

**Part Nine:**

The music was tasteful and the surrounds luxurious – just as one would expect at one of these types of parties. I took a sip of champagne and felt the bubbles tickle my throat. I was standing near the entrance to the ballroom, not even needing to feign a bored expression.

I was wearing a tight, short black cocktail dress and stilettos, with a large amount of cleavage showing thanks to the low cut neckline and a really good push up bra. My platinum blonde wig was done up in a messy twist, curls loose around my face. I really did look like a blonde bimbo – but a rich blonde bimbo thanks to the diamonds at my wrist and ears.

"Are you enjoying yourself, _honey_?" Sark asked, emphasising the nickname as he came up behind me.

I pouted, playing to my role and hating the way I felt both comfortable and apprehensive around Sark. I still couldn't help by remember the memory every time I saw him. Bloody hell, it was weird.

"No." I said in an outrageous southern accent. "No one will talk to me, _darlin'_."

He chuckled at my accent. "Then let me introduce you." He said.

Taking my arm, we began to move around the room, trying to look just like everyone else – something Sark appeared to have no trouble doing. I tried to appear as dumb and vain as possible, while Sark did a credible imitation of a boorish playboy.

Around an hour later, just as I felt ready to scream with the boring conversations and tension at being this close to my sworn enemy, Sark leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'm going to find and disable the security system."

"Okay." I nodded, his voice in my ear doing funny things to my stomach.

I stood around, waiting for him to come back, completely bored and just wanting to leave. It hadn't been a challenge to gain entry to the party and would be hard to gain access to the mainframe. The lack of challenge had taken some of the excitement out of the mission, for me. I suspect it was the same for Sark. We were alike that way.

I glanced up as I heard footsteps approach. "Good evening." Said the tall, well dressed man in front of me.

I recognised him as our host, Raphael Bennetti. "Hi." I said, almost flirtatiously. Once again, I sounded like a southern belle. "I just wanted to say, Mr. Bennetti, that your party is simply wonderful."

"Please, call me Raphe." He said. "And you don't need to pretend you're not bored, Miss..?"

"St. James. But call me Kitty. Everyone else does!" I giggled. "And, really, I wasn't bored. Just lacking in company."

"Yes, I wondered where your distinguished date was."

"Oh, Marc?" I shot him a glance and noticed most of his attention was on my cleavage. I hate men like that. "He's around somewhere." I said, vaguely waving my hand at the party, my diamonds winking in the light.

I still didn't know where Sark had gotten them, but I knew they had been _very_ expensive. Only expensive diamonds glittered like that.

"Can I get you a glass of champagne?" Bennetti asked.

"Oh, yes please Mr...I mean, Raphe." I said, smiling somewhat shyly and shooting him a flirtatious glance. "I just love the way the bubbles tickle!"

Bennetti smiled slightly and grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing tray. He handed me one and shot me what I could only assume was meant to be a seductive look. "To pleasant company." He said, raising his glass slightly.

I giggled again, raising my glass in return and hoping Sark would get back soon. Now that was something I didn't think I'd ever feel. But as they say, its better the devil you know, and I knew Sark.

"Now, Kitty." Bennetti said. "I'd be delighted to introduce you to some of the others, if you'd like."

"You mean all Marc's business friends?" I said, wrinkling my nose in feigned disgust. Where the hell was Sark?

"You don't like them?"

"They're just so _boring_!" I said.

I took a sip of champagne and looked around the room, but I couldn't see Sark. Then, suddenly, I heard his voice behind me. "Darling, there you are. I've been looking everywhere."

I turned to see him striding towards us. "Mr. Bennetti." He greeted.

The two men eyed each other for a moment, until Bennetti smiled graciously. "Mr. Trent. If you'll excuse me..?"

Sark nodded and Bennetti left. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he saw my expression. "I don't like that man." I growled.

Sark smirked. "You can hurt him later. Right now we need to check the mainframe."

I nodded. "Then let's do it."

I followed Sark as he moved quickly across the room and slipped into a darkened corridor. Once we were out of sight, I put my hand on Sark's arm, making him stop. Quickly, I slipped out of my stilettos, and carried them in my hand. I wasn't stupid. I couldn't run in the things, not without twisting or breaking an ankle, and they're not the quietest of shoes.

I continued to follow Sark down the corridor on my, now silent, bare feet. The room containing the mainframe wasn't hard to find, and the guards patrolling the corridors were just disappearing out of sight as I peered around the corridor. We slipped into the room, and I shut the door.

Sark, now wearing a pair of leather gloves (to hide his fingerprints, I assumed), sat down at the computer and started typing. He needed to complete his mission (and counter mission) before I could access the system...but I felt a growing feeling of impatience. I almost felt like dragging Sark away from the computer, just so I could find the information I craved. But I forced myself to take a deep breath. I had waited this long for the information...I could wait a few more minutes.

A few seconds later, Sark got up and handed me another pair of leather gloves. "Your turn." He said.

Some of my relief must have shown on my face, because Sark gave me an amused glance. I snatched the gloves out of his hand and sat down at the computer. Doing a quick search of the files, I noticed a few that looked promising. "Sark?" I asked. "How long have we got?"

"Ten minutes." He said, knowing that I meant how long we had until the security system came back online.

I read the few files I located, and found another clue – an address in Rome for one Julia Thorne. I grabbed a pen and paper from nearby and quickly jotted it down. I then carefully folded the paper and shoved it in the small bag I was carrying.

As I did, I suddenly got a bad feeling. I looked at Sark, who was standing by the door. He wasn't pointing a gun at me, or trying to hurt of kill me in any way I could see, so I glanced back at the computer screen. But, just to be safe, my hand slid into my bag and drew out my gun. Its comforting weight reassured me as I slid it onto my lap.

It was just as well I did, because it was at that moment that Bennetti burst through the door with two goons in tow. He pointed a gun at me. "Hands where I can see them!" he snapped at me.

I eyed the three guns pointed in my direction and slowly raised my hands into the air. I felt a small shiver of fear as I did, and swallowed nervously. "I though you looked familiar...Julia." Bennetti said.

Well, damn. They thought I was Julia Thorne. At least they didn't realise I was CIA..._we_ were CIA. Bloody hell, but it was weird thinking of Sark as CIA. But he was. Technically.

"And I suppose your 'date' would be the famous Mr. Sark?" Bennetti continued. "Where is he?"

It was at that moment that Sark chose to act. I can't say he didn't have a flair for the dramatic. From where he stood in the shadows behind the door, he stepped forward and shot the two goons, knocking the door shut in the process. Bennetti's attention focused momentarily on the attack on the attack behind him and I moved.

By the time Bennetti focused back on me, I was standing up, my gun trained on him. He looked at me in surprise, as if not expecting to see the gun in my hand. He slumped to the ground, unconscious, after Sark hit him on the temple with the butt of his gun.

"Time to leave." He told me.

I nodded, before ducking back quickly to grab the address I had found earlier. I left the handbag and stilettos where they were, not needing them anymore. Just before I ran out the room, I yanked off my blonde wig and let my brown locks tumble free. They already knew who I was – I didn't need it. And, besides, not matter how much I wore them, I hated the way the wig itched.

I followed Sark down the corridor, moving in the opposite direction of the ballroom. Sark shot me a glance and raised an eyebrow in amusement when he saw me, his mouth curving into a half-smile. What he saw, I could only imagine. Barefoot and clad only in a tight black dress, my hair falling in tangles over my shoulders and a gun in my leather gloved hands.

He motioned me through a series of rooms, and I went, surprising myself at my almost complete trust of Sark – and my lack of doubt at his willingness to watch my back. It was very weird...but it felt _right_ somehow.

We encountered no guards, which I found strange, but I shrugged it off, focusing on how Sark and I were going to get out. I shouldn't have worried, though, because Sark knew a back way out. I suppose a man like him doesn't survive very long without always having an escape plan.

We slipped out of a terrace door into the chill autumn evening, just around the corner from the main drive. The drive, unfortunately however, was now patrolled by three guards armed with automatics.

I snuck a glance around the corner, trying not to shiver and feeling the damp dirt beneath my bare feet. I looked at Sark and raised an eyebrow. "Wait for my signal." Was all that Sark said, before disappearing into the shadows.

Not having much of a choice, I did as I was told – not liking it one bit. I watched tensely as Sark crept along the bordering garden bed, hidden by some trees, until he was directly opposite the area where the cars were parked. He turned back to look at me, before he broke cover, firing as he went.

Cursing loudly, I pivoted around the corner, aiming for the nearest guard. I shot him and ducked back behind the corner. Bullets thudded into the brick wall where I had just been, blowing sharp pieces of stone all over. I winced as one of them hit my arm, and drew back a little further.

I heard more gunfire, this time in a different direction, followed by Sark's answering shots. I ducked back around the corner, firing again, just as I heard a shout and more gunfire coming from the front of the house. Shit! I cursed aloud and felt a shiver of absolute fear as my clip ran out.

I spun, sprinting back around the corner, my mind racing. I felt the bullets hit the path behind me as I ducked back under cover. Breathlessly, I thanked God that I had thought to carry an extra clip or two with me. I ejected the empty clip, and it fell with a dull thud to the dirt at my feet. I could hear the gunfire getting closer and closer, and felt my muscles tensing in fear.

I forced myself to breathe, slowly and deeply, and focus on my task. I grabbed a new clip from where it was held against my thigh by a garter and hidden by my skirt. It was warm to the touch, I noticed absently, as I shoved it home. I chambered a bullet in a practiced motion, before taking off.

Rapid gunfire thudded into the wall where I had just stood, and followed me as I darted into the shadows of the trees lining the drive. I dodged in and out, the bullets close on my heels, not even daring to pause long enough to shoot back.

"Sydney!" I heard a voice call out as tyres skidded in gravel.

I swerved, sprinting out across the drive, trying to ignore the sting of the gravel biting into my bare feet. I dived into the car as Sark gunned the engine, roaring off before I even had a chance to shut the door. Ahead of us, the wrought iron gates were closing and I held my breath as Sark accelerated, roaring through the gap with millimetres to spare on either side. We skidded onto the road and roared off into the night.

I took a deep breath and let out a low, throaty laugh, the adrenaline still surging through my veins. This was the part of my job I loved – the feeling of triumphant ecstasy that I got after every successful mission. I stretched like a cat, noticing for the first time I still wore both the diamonds and gloves Sark had given me. I slipped them off, placing them in the bag at my feet.

"That was close." I said.

"Unfortunately, it's not over yet." Sark replied.

I followed his glance to the rear view mirror, just as I heard gunfire behind us. I ducked instinctively, reaching for my gun. We were being followed. Then I gave a feral smile. I would fix it. I opened the window at my side as Sark accelerated. I ducked as more bullets raked the car, before leaning out the window and letting off a few answering shots.

"Shit!" I cursed as I ducked back into the car, twisting in my seat to keep an eye on our pursuers. "There are two cars!"

Sark gave me a wry smile, his gaze flicking from the rear view mirror to the road ahead. "So I see." He said.

I leaned out the window again, the cold air whipping at my hair and numbing my skin. I emptied the clip at the car, aiming for the driver. The car swerved violently when I hit him. Unfortunately, the man in the passenger seat was fast and clever. I saw him kick the driver's body from the car and take over.

"Bloody hell." I said and ducked back into the car.

I grabbed the second clip from my garter and finally noticed where we were headed. Sark was driving up into the Swiss Alps, obviously hoping to lose our pursuers on the narrow, winding roads. I paused for a second, listening to the bullets hitting the back of the car and my gaze was drawn to the grey, icy river below the cliff on which we drove, our tyre centimetres from the edge.

I dragged my thoughts back to the problem at hand and reloaded my gun. This time I managed to hit the driver with my first shot and car smashed into the rock wall on the opposite side of the road to the cliff and the river beneath. I watched in almost horrified fascination as, seconds later, the second car smashed through the wreckage.

I leaned out the window and emptied my clip at the second car, but didn't do any major damage. I drew back into the car in search of another clip, and it was at that moment that the other car opened fire – but at our tyres. The driver's side tyre blew with a sound reminiscent of a gunshot. I really don't think it wouldn't have done so much, if it hadn't been for what happened next.

The car swerved sharply to the left, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Sark tugged the wheel, but our pursuers let out another volley of shots. One of the bullets hit Sark in the shoulder. He gasped in pain, his grip momentarily relaxing on the wheel. And a moment was all it took. The car veered to the left and plunged over the cliff with a painful jerk. My head smashed against the windscreen. Pain blossomed in my skull, sharp and throbbing. I was vaguely aware of a feeling of falling and the grey river rushing up to meet me as the world faded black.

* * *

I woke up with a jerk at the touch of icy water. I gasped and struggled, my head pounding. I watched in horror as icy grey water poured into the car from the shattered back window and my open side window. The car was filling fast.

I shivered with cold as my breathing quickened and panic twisted in my gut. I struggled frantically for a second, before I forced myself to focus. I looked at Sark , who lay unconscious at the wheel, blood tinting the water around him. As the level of water hit my chest, I felt the panic fight to rise again, but I ruthlessly suppressed it. My muscles were knotted with tension and everything in me screamed to 'Get out! GET OUT!'

A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over me, the pain blinding. I groaned as it faded, feeling the water surge around my throat. Blood trickled hotly down my forehead and my body felt like ice. I took another shuddering breath and forced myself to move. I glanced at Sark again and took a deep breath, ducking down into the freezing water.

I blinked vainly in the dark and murky water, but could see nothing. Luckily my hand brushed the handle of the bag I was seeking, and I grabbed it. I pushed up with my feet and my head hit the ceiling of the car.

A wave of blinding pain washed over me from the impact as I gasped for air. I calmed my breathing as much as I could and took another deep breath, knowing it could be the last breath I ever took. Warm tears streamed down my face, both out of pain and fear.

I sank back down into the water, my hands seeking Sark. Unlike me, he had been wearing a seatbelt, and for a second I struggled with it, before it loosened. As the dark water pressed down on me and my lungs burned for air, I felt myself begin to panic and could do nothing to stop it.

I grabbed Sark and dragged him out of his seat. I managed to shove open the passenger side door and dragged his unconscious body through behind me. I could feel my limbs weakening as the burning in my lungs became almost unbearable. Sark was a heavy weight, dragging me down into the inky depths, but I refused to let go. There was a voice in my head telling me to surface to get air, so I tightened my grip around Sark and desperately kicked upwards, my vision beginning to blur.

When I finally reached the surface, I almost sank back down, coughing and spluttering and gasping for breath. Despite my heaving lungs and fuzzy brain, I felt an immense feeling of relief. I was alive! I drew in deep breaths of cool, sweet air, filling my lungs. Now that my mind wasn't solely focused on getting air, I realised I was numb and shivering with cold.

A new sense of urgency gripped me. Sark. He was unconscious and bleeding and had probably swallowed water while we were under. I swam for the shore, drawing on my last reserves of strength. I didn't bother to fight the current, but let it carry me downriver, angling towards the nearest bank of the river.

I don't know how long it took, but I finally reached the shore. It had seemed like hours, each second causing my panic to grow. This time, though, it was not for my life. It was for Sark's. I don't know why I had this urge to save him, when there had been many times in the past where I would have been happy to let him drown. Maybe it was because he knew something about my missing two years. Maybe it was because he had saved my life. Maybe because of my dream. I don't know.

I dragged Sark up the bank, my teeth chattering in cold. The breeze was freezing against my wet skin. I rolled Sark onto his back and checked his breathing. He wasn't. Urgently, I dredged up the knowledge of every first aid class I had ever been to and began CPR. Gently, steady. I played the instructions over and over in my head as I sucked in a shuddering breath that had nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with fear. Fear of Sark dying, of all things.

"Breathe, you cocky-son-of-a-bitch!" I snarled at him.

Whether he heard me or not, I don't know, but at that moment he spluttered and coughed, all the water coming out of his lungs. His blue eyes opened and he stared at me, but his gaze was unfocused. He slid back into unconsciousness again, although this time his breath was steady, the slight sound comforting me more than it should have.

A wave of dizziness overcame me, causing my vision to spin. A sharp stab of pain shot through my head. I gasped, and stubbornly held onto consciousness. When the wave had past, I crawled forward and looked at Sark's bullet wound. Luckily, it only looked like a painful, but relatively minor, flesh wound. I tried to clean and bind it as best as I could, using river water and strips of Sark's jacket that I had stripped off him. He groaned as I did so, and I shot him a glance, noticing the dark purple bruise beginning to show on his forehead, near his temple, where his head had obviously hit the window.

I had barely managed to tie the last knot when another stabbing pain hit me, twice as bad as the first. The world swam dizzily and my body felt like it was on fire. I groaned and the combination of pain and exhaustion too much for me as I lost my grip on consciousness and slid into darkness.

* * *

_I was lying in the cold and dark. My limbs felt weak and the memory of intense pain was still filling my body. I knew I was alone. Completely alone. I had been for a long, long time. I don't know how long, exactly, I lay there, my mind sluggish. I knew the Covenant had me – but I was still confused as to why._

_My stomach rumbled softly, reminding me I hadn't eaten or drank anything for days, but I ignored it. I had to get out of here! If I didn't I knew I would go slightly mad..._

_My vision blurred slightly, and I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. I was a whole lot thinner than I had been; the results of physical and mental abuse like starvation and electroshock. But I knew I could take comfort in the fact I had not broken._

_My eyes, I noticed, looked somewhat bleak and empty, showing none of their former warmth. The Covenant had even changed my hair. It seemed I was now a blonde. I yawned sleepily and turned away from the mirror. I should sleep..._

_My vision blurred again, and this time I saw the face of the man I hated most in the world – Arvin Sloane. He walked towards me, where I was running on a treadmill in some sort of gym. "Julia." He said._

"_Mr. Sloane." I replied._

"_How is your training coming along?"_

"_Very well, considering my weakened state in the beginning." I replied._

"_I'm glad. You'll be out in the field before you know it." He told me, before walking away._

_I hid my disgust and kept running..._

_A pair of familiar blue eyes stared at me, humour and warmth making them seem so alive. Julian smiled at me, shaking his head slightly. "Sydney..." he began._

_I held a finger to his lips. "No more talking." I said._

_And then I kissed him..._

* * *

I sat bolt upright, suddenly conscious and feeling like I had just had a nightmare. And in a way, I thought, I had. "Oh my God..." I whispered hoarsely.

Then, suddenly, my body was wracked by immense pain. I stifled a scream and sank back down onto the muddy bank of the river. Wave after wave of burning agony washed over me, while I writhed on the ground. I bit my lip to help keep in the screams.

How long I was like that, I don't know. It felt like an eternity even though it wasn't. Gradually, I began to hear a voice calling me. "Sydney! Sydney, wake up!"

I blinked open eyes I didn't even know I had shut, to see Sark's worried eyes above me. I had never noticed they were so blue. It was then that I noticed two things: it was morning and the pain had finally gone.

"Are you all right?" Sark asked cautiously.

"I think so." I said.

Sark rocked back on his heels and I carefully sat up. I couldn't help but smile at his appearance. His blonde hair was sticking up at odd angles, slightly muddy, and his once white shirt was covered in blood and mud stains. There was also a dark bruise near his temple. He really didn't look like the sleek and sophisticated man I knew.

"Are you hurt?" he asked me.

I reached up and gingerly touched my forehead. "Just a bump on the head." I told him. "Nothing serious."

We looked at each other for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. What Sark's were, I don't know. But mine were confusing. The fragments of memories – almost like half forgotten dreams – swirled around my head. Another wave of pain hit me, but it was nearly as bad as the first. I winced slightly, before gasping when a sharp stab of pain almost split my head in two. Tears streamed down my face, the pain worse than everything else. I bit my lips so hard, to keep from screaming, that I drew blood.

"Sydney!" Sark cried.

I blinked, breathing hard, when the pain suddenly stopped. Instantly, everything seemed clearer than before, like the world had been brought into sharper focus. I swallowed in surprise. Oh my God...

"Sydney, what's wrong?" Sark's insistent question broke into my thoughts.

"I...I don't know." I said, confused.

Then, suddenly, I did. A memory came unbidden to the front of my mind. _A memory from my missing two years_. I blinked, exploring the rest of my mind. It was true. I really was true! I remembered! I really remembered! I sucked in a sharp breath. I remember, all right...everything.

"It was Sloane." I said, everything suddenly making sense.

The memory came into my head. Just before Julia Thorne had disappeared, I had met with Arvin Sloane in Zurich. He had called me in to supposedly talk about my next mission. But in reality it was a trap. It seemed that Sloane had deemed me a threat now that he had almost everything he wanted from me – but he couldn't kill me. So he did the only thing he could do...he wiped my memory and dumped me in Hong Kong – where I had woken up.

But now I had my memories back.

"Sloane?" Sark echoed. "What did he do?"

"He was the one who wiped my memories." I told him.

Sark looked at me at me in shock – although, I think it was more because of what I was I was implying than Sloane's actions. "Syd..."

"Yes, Julian." I said, confirming his fears. His head jerked up when I said his first name. "I remember everything."

And I did. I remembered collapsing after my fight with Allison Doren and waking up in a van. The doctor I had killed in Germany had been there. I remember watching my own funeral from the windows of the van; seeing Vaughn cry and my father grow distant. I remembered the nine months of attempted brainwashing. I remembered the man I had killed to prove myself to the Covenant. I remembered the month of training. I remembered meeting Sark and working with him. I remembered going to the CIA – to Kendall – and asking to work as a double agent. I remembered my sense of betrayal at seeing Vaughn with another woman. But most of all, I remembered the most important thing: my saviour, my lover and my real guardian angel. Julian Sark.

"Sydney?" he asked with an almost child-like fear and hope. "You remember?"

"I remember." I said, before leaning forward and pressing my lips to his.

Julian was absolutely surprised for a moment, his movements tentative and wary. I recognised it was fear. He was scared that this could be some sort of trick. But it wasn't. I don't know whether it was my regained memories or just a new understanding of the man in front of me that made me realised I truly cared about him. An honest-to-goodness caring of the man underneath.

I don't know whether Sark read my thoughts or read my thoughts in my actions, but suddenly he was kissing me back with a soul deep and desperate passion, one that was achingly familiar to me. I returned as much as I got, the whole moment even more sweet by the sense of familiarity and remembrance I felt.

We broke apart, breathless and tears began to slide down my face. "I'm sorry." I said softly. "I promised I would never forget, never leave...and then I did. All this time..."

Julian pressed a finger to my lips. "I know." He said. "Do you really remember?"

"Yeah." I said, giving him a watery smile. "You gave me that ring – the ruby ring – so that you would always know who I was, no matter what."

Sark's hand came up to cup my face. "Yes, I did." And he kissed me again.

I revelled in the taste and feel of Sark – feeling the whole _rightness_ of it that I can't remember feeling with anyone else. It might take me a while to sort through what exactly had happened during those two missing years, but I knew one thing: I wasn't the woman I had once been. I was someone different; someone better. And I had Sark.

* * *

Author's Note: So what did you guys think? Please review and tell me! Reviews are very much appreciated.

Cheeky.


	10. Conversations

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter has taken so long guys...I hope to have the next one up sooner next time.

Cheeky.

**

* * *

**

**Part Ten:**

I smiled slightly at Sark, watching the warm expression in his blue eyes. It felt so precious to see Sark like this, because I knew how he rarely showed anything other than a cold, business-like mask. "We should start moving." I said.

Julian nodded, his expression wistful. I knew how he felt. I didn't really want this moment to end either. Sark got up slowly, wincing when he was forced to move his shoulder. I stood up just as carefully as Sark, exhausted and wary of my head. When the world didn't spin or fade, I breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing we needed right now was for me to pass out.

Once I was standing, I looked around for the bag I had gone to so much trouble to retrieve. I spotted it about two meters away, a little downstream. I walked over and grabbed it, mud oozing uncomfortably between my toes.

"Sydney, what are you doing?" Sark asked curiously.

"Getting my bag." I replied.

Sark watched me curiously as I walked over to the large (and thankfully waterproof) black bag. "What's in it?" Sark asked.

"A change of clothes, shoes, passport, money, another gun and some more ammo." I said, dumping the bag at his feet.

Sark let out a low chuckle which sent shivers up and down my spine. And it wasn't an unpleasant feeling. "You're always ready for any situation, aren't you?" he said.

Yes, I was...well, almost any situation. I hadn't been prepared for being kidnapped by a terrorist organisation and losing two years of my life. But then who would think that's even a possibility?

I smiled softly at Sark, before crouching down and opening the bag. I dug through it and came out with a change of clothes for both of us. "Sorry." I said to Sark. "No Armani."

Julian flashed me a half-smile and took the clothes. "Where did you get these?" he asked curiously, watching me take out my own change of clothes.

"From the plane." I told him. "I thought you might need them."

He nodded. "You were right." He said.

I shot him an impish smile. "I always am." I quipped. "I'm going to find a tree to change behind."

Gathering my clothes, I walked down the bank a little until I found a big enough tree to duck behind. I grimaced when I looked down, noticing the dried mud all over my legs and arms. Sighing, I walked over to the river and put my clothes on a nearby rock. I glanced warily down at the grey water, before gritting my teeth.

Bending down, I grabbed a handful of icy water and began to wash. I shivered where the water touched my warm skin. I got rid of as much mud as I could, before changing into a pair of jeans and a light sweater. I grimaced when I shoved my still wet feet into my socks. I really felt like a shower about now.

As I walked back to where I had left Sark, I ran my fingers through my muddy, knotty hair in an effort to neaten it. I stopped a couple of metres away, staring at a bare-chested Sark who was trying to wash the blood and mud from his shoulder. Of course, I could only see his back as he was crouching by the river, but the sight still stopped me in my tracks.

A memory flashed unbidden into my mind. I remembered running my hands up and down that back, feeling the hot flesh and hard muscle beneath my touch. I remembered kissing and licking every one of those scars, my hands digging into those shoulders as I...

I flushed hotly. Where the hell had that come from? I felt uncomfortable with the knowledge I had once been Sark's lover. While I may have accepted the fact that I cared for him – I was still reluctant to call it anything else – as truth, I was still kind of weirded out by the whole situation. I had some serious thinking to do, both about my memories and my emotions.

"Sydney," Sark said, standing carefully. I wasn't surprised that he knew I was there – he wouldn't have been as good a spy as I knew he was if he hadn't. "Can you help me with this?"

"Of course." I said, dropping the dress in the bag and stepping forward.

I walked forward and carefully helped Sark ease into the clean shirt, noticing the grimace of pain as he did so. I frowned. His wounded shoulder seemed to be worse today than it had been last night. I have to take another look at it. Sark winced as he reached up to do up the buttons.

"Let me." I said, brushing his hands away.

I stepped closer to him, coming face to face with Sark's bare muscled chest. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. I felt an impulsive urge to lean forward and kiss the exposed flesh, but I quickly shoved that thought away. I did up the buttons as fast as I could and steeped back. "There, done." I said.

"Thank you." Sark said softly.

I smiled, not quite meeting Sark's eyes and walked back to the bag, throwing Sark's ruined clothes on top of mine. I also reached in and grabbed the gun, checking it was loaded, before shoving it in my waistband. "Let's get out of here." I said, swinging the bag over my shoulder.

The sun was high in the sky before we reached the road. It had been tough going, leaving little time for talk – and Sark's shoulder had been paining him enough already. From there, we managed to hitch a lift to the nearest town with a cheerful man who had looked at us in curiosity, but asked no questions.

Once we had thanked him and said goodbye to Hans, Sark went in search of a payphone. When he found one, he had a short, quiet conversation in French with the person on the other end of the line.

"Is everything all right?" I asked when he had finished.

"It's as to be expected." He replied. "They sent someone to the airport while they were dealing with us."

I didn't need to be told who 'they' were. "Jacques was quick enough to notice and flew off before they could catch him." Sark continued. "He's going to meet us in Germany."

I nodded, realising Jacques was Sark's pilot. "Well, we can worry about that tomorrow." I said. "Right now I suggest we find somewhere we can sleep and I can take another look at your shoulder."

Sark nodded tiredly. "I noticed a motel about a black away."

The motel was slightly seedy and rundown, but it was cheap and the clerk on duty didn't ask any questions. After the room was paid for, I left Sark sitting on the grimy bed and went in search of medicinal supplies. By now it was late evening, and the small number of shops in the town all seemed to be shut. In the end, the best I could come up with was whiskey and a few rough bandages. It would have to do for now.

I made my way back to the motel room, looking forward to taking a hot shower. When I carefully opened the door, I noticed Sark jerk up from where he had been dozing on the bed. "It's only me." I said.

Sark nodded, still wincing slightly. He lay back down on the bed. I shut the door and locked it behind me. "Come on." I said to Sark. "You need to have a shower."

Sark mumbled something, but didn't move. "Now, Julian." I said firmly.

Sark smiled softly, and opened his eyes to stare at me. "I like it when you say that." He said.

"Say what?" I asked, puzzled.

"My name."

I smiled at him. "Well, I like saying it." I said. "Now go get a shower."

Sark flashed me a familiar smirk. "Only if you come with me." He said, sitting up.

I put my hands on my hips and realised Sark must be feeling better if he was teasing me. "Shower." I said. "Go. Now."

"Yes, Sydney." He said, standing up and walking to the bathroom, stopping only to give me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" I asked.

"For sounding like my mother." Sark said, disappearing into the bathroom.

I blinked in surprise. That was twice now that Sark had revealed something about himself without being prompted. It wasn't like him. Then I sighed. Yes, actually it was – when you had his trust. I couldn't keep the smile off my face at the thought of being one of the people Julian Sark really trusted.

While Sark took a quick shower, I brought out the rest of my purchases. Shampoo (which I should probably have offered Sark), whiskey, bandages and the only food I could find that wasn't fried and greasy: bread rolls and cheese. I sighed. It wouldn't matter, since we'd be leaving tomorrow morning, but hungry as I was, it was hard to find the stale rolls and cheese appetising.

I ate my dinner quickly, because I was hungry and gathered up one of the threadbare towels provided when Sark came out of the bathroom. All he wore was his jeans and I was momentarily distracted by his muscular chest. "The bathroom's free." He said, his tone one of faint amusement.

Blushing, I fled to the bathroom. I had to get a hold of myself! I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Okay, aside from having to stop acting like a hormonal teenager, I was still trying to get a grip on everything that had happened in the last two years. I sighed and decided to forget about it while I had a nice, relaxing shower – and finally get some mud out of my hair.

About twenty minutes later I felt a whole lot better, even though (having decided to wash it) I wore no underwear. I hadn't really wanted to wear dirty underwear and I hated the feeling of being underwear-less. But what could you do?

Taking a deep breath of warm moist air, I gathered my confidence and opened the bathroom door. I walked out and noticed as soon as I did that Sark had eaten the bread and cheese I had left for him. He was waiting patiently on the bed. "So where do you want to do this?" he asked.

I blinked, frozen in shock. "Sydney?" he said, holding up the bottle of whiskey. "Unless, of course, you're planning on getting drunk?"

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. For a moment there I had thought...never mind what I had thought. I wasn't going to go there. "Near the bath would probably be best." I said.

He nodded and followed me into the bathroom. "This is going to sting like hell." I warned as I unscrewed the lid of the whiskey bottle.

Sark tensed slightly and leaned back. I poured some of the whiskey over the wound and heard Sark's sharp intake of breath. "Here." I said, handing him the bottle.

He took a large swallow, before setting the bottle down. Now that the wound was clear of all the dried blood, I could see that the wound was a little more serious than I had first thought. The bullet had nicked part of the muscle, which probably explained why it appeared to hurt so much. I bound Sark's shoulder tightly with the bandages. "You need to get someone to look at that." I said.

"Okay." Sark said roughly.

I moved slightly so I could see Sark's face. His eyes were squeezed shut and his left hand was curled into a fist. "Are you all right?" I asked, concerned.

"No." Sark said shortly.

"What's wrong?"

"Right now?" Sark asked, opening his blue eyes. "A lot of things."

"Like what?" I asked, sitting beside him on the edge of the bath.

"Me. You." He shut his eyes again. "My shoulder."

"Julian..." I began, but at that moment Sark opened his eyes again and stood up.

"I'm going to get some sleep." He said.

I followed him out of the bathroom. "What is it that's bothering you?" I asked as I walked after him.

"Nothing." He sat down on the bed.

"Bullshit." I snapped, coming to stand in front of him. "What's bothering you, Julian?"

"You really want to know?" he snapped back, glaring up at me.

"Yes."

Looking me straight in the eye, Sark said. "What's bothering me is you remembering everything."

I tried not to wince at his words, but they fell like a blow. "Why?" I asked softly.

Sark ran his left hand over his face. "Because I'm a monster, Sydney." He whispered. "And you can't afford to care about me."

Suddenly, I understood. I realised he truly cared about me and didn't want me to get drawn into his world. Just like he had before. What he still didn't realise was that I was already in his world – and I had been for years.

"Well, I'll just have to tell you again what I told you before: I already care about you and I'm not going to stop just because you don't want to risk admitting you care too." I said. "And you're not a monster. Arvin Sloane is a monster. Not you."

Sark sat there for a minute in silence, his eyes still shut. "You're going to be stubborn about this, aren't you?" he said finally.

"Damn right I am."

"Sydney..."

"No, don't 'Sydney' me. I'm not going to change my mind." I said firmly.

"And what exactly are you going to tell your father? The CIA?" Sark asked. "What's going to happen once you get home?"

I blinked in surprise. I hadn't even thought about that. I had been so consumed and preoccupied by my newfound memories that I hadn't really thought about what it would mean when I got back.

"I always understood this would be a temporary thing, Syd. It can't last."

"Why?" I snapped, annoyed. "Why can't it last?"

"Because you're going home to your family and friends. To Vaughn." Sark said quietly.

"Vaughn?" I echoed.

"He still loves you, Syd. He'll give you the normal life you crave so much."

I looked at Sark incredulously. "What makes everyone so Goddamn sure I'm going to run back to Vaughn?" I yelled, not really at Sark, but at anything that could give me an answer. "Despite the fact he is married to another woman?"

"Because you love him."

I whirled back to glare at Sark. "No I don't!"

Sark blinked in surprise. "You don't?"

"No." I said more quietly this time. "I did once, but not anymore."

"Why?" Sark asked.

"Because we've both changed. Because we see the world differently. And because if he really loved me he wouldn't have married someone else so soon."

I sat down beside him on the bed. "And who said I wanted to have a normal life anyway?"

Sark gave me a funny look. "You did."

"Well, I can change my mind, can't I?"

Sark smiled. "Yes, you can. But my I ask what prompted this change?"

Now it was my turn to smile. "Because I'd miss it. The challenge and the excitement. Maybe not getting shot at, though." I felt myself turn more serious. "But most of all, I'd miss the way I get to help change the world. I'm keeping it safe so that other women like me can go to school, fall in love, have children. I'm making sure that someday men, like Arvin Sloane, don't destroy all that. I can't stop doing that Sark. I can't pretend the world's a safe place anymore."

Sark smiled and shook his head. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said.

I raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Sark just smiled at me. And, boy, did he have a knockout smile. His eyes sparkled and he just looked so happy. It struck me then just how young he was to have done so much. I searched my memories, but couldn't remember Julian ever telling me his age.

"How old are you?" I asked.

Sark's grin faded. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." I said. "I'll tell you how old I am."

"I already know how old you are." Sark said.

"Oh?"

He smirked at me. "29."

Then he shook his head. "If you must know, I'm 26." He said.

"I always thought you were older than that. Because...well, you just _know_ everything."

"Your mother was a good teacher." He said.

I nodded, not really sure what to say to that. "She misses you, you know." Sark said.

"Really?"

"Irina may be a lot of things, Syd, but she does care about her daughter."

"I care about her too." I whispered. "She _is_ my mother, no matter what anyone says."

"She knows." Sark told me.

I sighed and glanced at the clock, trying to break my now melancholy mood. 8pm. "I'm going to get some sleep." I said.

Sark ran his hand tiredly over his face. "Good idea." He said.

I noticed how tired he looked and nodded. I crawled into bed, and felt Sark crawl in beside me, careful to give me some space. I smiled as I thought how this brought new meaning to the concept of sleeping-with-the-enemy. But, perhaps, something stranger than that, was that I didn't think of Sark as an enemy anymore. I'm not sure what that made him though, aside form the man I cared about.

I yawned with exhaustion and turned unthinking towards Sark, wanting the comfort I knew I could find in his arms. I snuggled closer and felt Sark arms curl around me. It was a reassuring feeling that I knew I had missed. I drifted off to sleep almost immediately, a soft smile on my face.

* * *

I don't know what it was, but something woke me at about 5am. The sky was still dark, as was the room. Something was wrong. I could feel it.

I was still lying curled in Sark's arms. He was lying on his good shoulder, one hand resting on my hip as I lay against his chest. It was a familiar sensation, but not the one that had woken me.

I could tell by the slight way his muscles tensed that Sark was awake too. "Outside." He whispered.

I nodded and slipped out of the bed, immediately missing the warmth and comfort. I walked towards the door, already having my gun in my hand – I had hidden it under my pillow, just in case. I held it in front of me, pointed at the floor.

I felt Sark moving behind me, slightly stiffly. He crept up to the other side of the door, a gun in his hands. I raised an eyebrow curiously at him. Where had that come from? Sark merely smirked at me. He wasn't going to tell me all his secrets just yet.

As we listened quietly, we began to hear faint sounds coming towards us. It seemed we had company. Five minutes later, six Covenant agents burst into the room. I saw their surprise at the empty bed. I moved quickly.

I kicked one of the men from behind, shoving him into one of his team mates. I gave him a punch to the kidneys, before kicking his friend in the head. Both me dropped to the floor. The remaining operatives turned, pointing their guns at me. I pointed my gun straight back, my heart hammering with adrenaline and fear. "I wouldn't do that, gentlemen." Came Sark's smooth voice from behind them.

Two of the men glanced nervously behind them, and one swallowed noisily. "Mr. Sark." He said.

"Andrew." Sark greeted, his voice cold. "Drop the guns."

One of the other men – the leader by the look of him – tightened his grip on the gun pointed at me. "I think it's you who should drop the gun." He said. "You can't shoot us all before we shoot her."

Sark cocked his gun. It really was a menacing sound. "Are you willing to stake your life on that?" he asked mildly.

The leader looked nervous for a second, before his expression hardened again. "I won't ask you again."

I raised an eyebrow at Julian. He nodded. "Let her go." He warned again.

"No." the leader said.

Suddenly he spun, turning towards Sark. Two of the others opened fire on me. The instant I had seen the leader begin to move, I had dropped and rolled, before coming up and shooting the leader twice in the back. The bullets aimed at me missed as the agents looked on in surprise. The gunshots seemed to echo in the early morning air. Sark dealt with the two agents firing at me, as I shot the remaining goon before he could fire.

As soon as all the men were down, I leapt forward and grabbed money and my passport out of the black bag. When I turned back, I noticed Sark had pulled on his shirt, although it still hung open at the front. Not that I minded. "Let's go." He said.

I nodded and raced out the door, not knowing if there were more agents out there. I ran out of the motel, trying to stay in the shadows as much as possible. We only saw one agent outside. He was standing by a black SUV and never even realised we were there. Sark knocked him out as I made sure there was no one else in the car. And before anyone could stop us, Sark and I jumped into the SUV and roared off.


	11. Going Home

Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long guys, but I have been absolutely swamped by homework. I haven't been able to do any writing for a while. And thanks for all your reviews...I'm glad your liking the story. You guys are the best!

Cheeky.

* * *

**Part Eleven**

The drive to Germany took us until just after lunch and through part of the spectacular Swiss Alps. Sark and I didn't really talk, aside from directions or the odd comment, until we were back on board Sark's plane.

After quickly changing my clothes (mainly to put on some underwear) I walked back to Julian. He still sat where I had left him, slumped in one of the comfortable leather seats, his eyes shut. I sat down opposite and studied him for a moment. His normally cold features had softened as he dozed, and I was struck again how handsome he was. I had never really noticed; back when I had considered him an enemy. These days, though, I seemed to notice it at odd times.

Sark smiled and I felt my heart tighten in my chest. "Hello Sydney." He said without opening his eyes.

"Hello Julian." I replied.

I watched him for a few more minutes, and saw how tired he still was. Just like me. I stood up, leaning down and kissing his forehead on impulse. "Sleep, love." I whispered.

Before I could turn and walk away, Sark's hand snaked up and caught my wrist. I turned to see him looking at me. "Stay?"

There was a slight vulnerability in his expression that I had never seen before and it turned my heart to mush. Julian Sark was not the type of man to show weakness. So how could I refuse?

"Of course." I said, sinking down onto the seat beside him.

He pulled me close to him and I snuggled against his chest, my mind fuzzy with exhaustion. Suddenly my previous words drifted back to me. _Sleep, love_. Love. I had called Sark 'love'. I tried to keep muscles from tensing, but couldn't quite manage it. I felt Sark stir and his grip tightened around me. But I wasn't going anywhere. My heart was beating loudly in my chest as the realisation sank in. When I thought about it, it had been obvious. I was in love with Sark.

How could I not be when my heart turned to mush just by looking at him? When I treated every moment with him like it was a precious treasure? When I would do anything for him?

I relaxed back against his chest. I couldn't help but smile at the warm, treasured feeling I had in Sark's arms. That, combined with my exhaustion, sent me into a deep sleep.

* * *

"Sydney." A voice whispered in my ear, dragging me back to consciousness.

I groaned, and snuggled closer to the warmth surrounding me. I heard a low chuckle. "Wake up."

I blinked open my eyes and found myself staring into Sark's blue ones. I blinked in surprise and Sark grinned. "Good morning." He said.

"How long was I asleep?" I asked, my voice rough.

"About 10 hours." He said.

"Ten hours!" I sat up with a jerk.

Sark chuckled again, and sat up next to me. "Calm down. We still have about an hour."

I sighed. "I don't want to go back." I confessed.

"I know." Sark said, cupping my face with his hand. "But you have to."

"I know." I sighed.

We both looked at each other, uncertain of what to say. We both knew what the problem was: what were we going to do about us? Everyone still believed Sark was the enemy. That was the main reason I didn't want to go back – I didn't want to loose Julian. The other reason was I didn't want to have to be Sark's handler again – acting professional around him just wasn't going to happen.

I closed my eyes. "Julian..." I began.

He pressed a finger to my lips. "I know." He said softly, before leaning forward and kissing me.

I clung to him tightly, not wanting to let go. Why did fate or the powers that be up there decide to take happiness away from me just as I found it? This time, though, things would be different. I'd make sure of it.

Sark's hands fisted in my hair, drawing me even closer to him, as if he didn't want to let me go either. We broke apart, breathless. I stared into Sark's eyes and caught the fleeting look of sadness in them. "What is it?" I asked.

Sark opened his mouth, as if to say something, before shutting it again. "Tell me." I said.

"I don't know what you see in me, Syd." He said. "I don't want you to leave, because I know when you do, you'll wake up and see the truth. I don't want that. I don't want to face the hatred in your eyes..."

"But I already see the truth, Julian. I have for years. And I envied you for it, in part." I said. "You're a man who lives by his own rules. You know what you want and you don't back down until you've got it."

"And I've killed people to do it." Sark said flatly.

"So have I." I told him. "But can you tell me if any of the people you've killed were truly innocent?"

"No." Sark said finally. "They weren't."

"My mother, while she may kill and manipulate people, she never plays with anyone who is not already in the game – any she taught you that."

Sark smiled. "She did. Surprisingly, perhaps, your mother has morals in a world devoid of them."

"As do you, Julian. No matter how hard you try to hide them."

Sark looked at me with a strange expression on his face. It was almost a combination of wonder, reluctance and disbelief. He shook his head and gave me a soft smile. "How is it that you can see so many good qualities in me, Syd?" he asked.

"Because I take the time to look." I said. "You see them too, if you ever bothered to try."

Sark chuckled. "I know."

I arched an eyebrow at him and caught his teasing look. I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing he was trying to tease me with his trademark smirk and cockiness – carefully hiding his true feelings. Or so he thought, anyway. I knew he didn't like sharing his feelings and it had taken a lot of trust for him to share what he had with me. Life had taught him harsh lessons, and one of them was not to trust easily. I smiled at Sark and gave him a brief kiss. I knew him better than he thought I did.

I got up from the seat. "I'm hungry." I said.

"So am I." Julian replied.

I turned back to look at him and noticed his eyes had darkened to a deeper blue. Somehow, I got the feeling he wasn't talking about food. I felt my lips curve into a seductive smile, before I turned and walked away. I really was hungry.

I walked over to the galley located at the back of the plane. I began searching in the cupboards for something to eat. I found a multitude of plates and glasses, some Chateau Pétrus '82, some weapons and a dusty box of cornflakes (behind which the weapons were hidden). "Do you have anything to eat around here?" I called to Sark.

"What would you like?" Sark said, his voice a lot closer than I expected.

I turned to find him standing behind me. "What have you got?" I asked.

Sark grinned at me. "I think you already know the answer to that, Syd." He replied.

I arched an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Definitely."

Sark stepped forward, almost predatorily, his eyes a deep blue. The galley was already a small space, but it seemed to shrink when Julian looked at me like that. Sark stopped a few inches from me, giving me space to pull away, if that's what I wanted. It wasn't.

I looked up into Sark's blue eyes, noticing the hungry expression and the slight wonderment in their depths. I smiled slightly, a ghost of a smile, before leaning forward and brushing my lips against his. It was a brief touch, a whisper of something more, but powerful all the same. The slight sensation sent shivers up and down my spine and made my heart beat faster.

I pulled away again and looked Sark in the eye. He raised an eyebrow at the unspoken challenge. He stepped forward again, forcing me back. I never looked away from his intent stare, even as the cool wall hit my back. Sark placed a hand either side of my head, boxing me in and causing his already open shirt to gape open further, distracting me for a moment. When I glanced back at Sark's face, I noticed the heated amusement in his eyes seconds before his mouth came crashing down on mine.

My knees began to feel weak as Sark's tongue explored my mouth, taunting me as he did so. How come Vaughn's kisses had never felt like this? Sark tasted so intoxicating, and I couldn't get enough. I kissed him back with the same bruising force and passion he was showing me. But somehow it still wasn't enough. Sark pressed me harder against the wall as I slipped my hands inside his shirt, feeling the warm, hard muscle beneath my palms.

We broke apart, breathing hard and all rational thought left my head at his devouring expression. I yanked his mouth back to mine, needing to feel his lips on mine. Sark moved his hands to my waist, pulling me harder against him. His lean, hard body felt like heaven against mine and I reached up and slid my hands up to his shoulders, gently avoiding his wound.

His mouth was hot on mine and his hands began to trail over my body, leaving trails of fire as they went. I gasped into his mouth at the feeling. Sark's mouth drifted from mine, nibbling my bottom lip as he went. The sensation of his five 'o'clock shadow against the tender skin of my neck was one of the most erotic I have ever felt.

Sark placed open mouthed kisses on my throat making me groan again. His hands trailed up from my waist to the neck of my shirt, before he brought his head up. "Syd," he said breathlessly. "We should stop."

"Why?" I blinked, trying to think.

"The CIA, your father..."

"Oh, screw them! I want to do something I want for once!"

Sark gave me a smile, before leaning down and giving me another passionate kiss. He pulled away again and stepped back. "We'll be landing soon."

I glared, feeling hot, bothered and frustrated. "Really?" I asked, annoyed.

"Yes." He replied. "Syd..."

"I get it." I said. "Just, next time, don't start something you can't finish."

"I didn't mean to." Sark said. "But you are the ultimate temptation, Bristow."

I raised an eyebrow at him. With his slightly tousled hair, rumpled clothes and twinkling eyes, he, too, looked very tempting. "You're not too bad yourself." I said.

Sark merely gave me his trademark smirk, before turning and leaving the galley. I took a deep breath once he had left and leaned back against the wall. Bloody hell! That had been intense. I took another breath and had to force myself not to go and find Sark, throw him against a wall and finish what we had started. I should've at least felt embarrassed about what had just happened, but I didn't. Vaughn, sure as hell, had never made me feel like that! But then, Vaughn couldn't really compare with a man like Julian Sark.

Getting up, I spent the last twenty minutes of the flight packing up my things and changing. As we began to land, I came out and sat next to Sark, now dressed in a loose sundress, light sweater and sandals. Sark smiled at me. "I brought you a present." He told me, motioning to some shopping bags in the seat next to me.

I looked inside them curiously, and found a designer suit, a pair of strappy sandals and a few blouses. "In my experience," Sark continued, "women cannot seem to visit Italy without going shopping."

"Thank you." I said, touched that Sark would go through so much trouble to help with my cover story. "They're beautiful."

"So are you."

I blushed slightly at his words. Within minutes we had touched down and taxied to a stop. We disembarked silently, unsure of what to say. I turned back to face him. "I have to go." I said.

"I know." Sark cupped my face gently in his hands before kissing my lingeringly. "I love you, Syd." He whispered when he finally broke away.

"I love you too." I whispered back, knowing in my heart that it was the truth.

Sark gave me one last kiss before he had to leave. I watched him drive away in one of his expensive black cars – a BMW this time – before turning and walking back inside the terminal. I flipped on my sunglasses and couldn't help but feel an extra, more confidant swagger to my step. It was true I had changed over the last two years, even more so now that I had regained my memories, but I must confess that I don't believe it was such a bad thing after all.

The trip home was rather quite and uneventful, which was rather a relief after the past few days. I was actually happy to get back to my apartment, despite how empty it still felt. I fear I will miss Francie and Will for a long time, but at least the pain wasn't bad anymore. I sighed and sank down onto the couch. Glancing at the clock, I realised it was only 7pm, but it seemed the last few days had taken a lot out of me.

I got up and made myself a quick meal of spaghetti, not really wanting much more. I just wanted to get some sleep. I smiled at that. It seemed like a good sign that I was both willing to eat and sleep – I had spent far too long over the past few weeks not doing either. And I figured I would probably need all my strength for tomorrow.

* * *

I woke up the next morning feeling better than I had in a long time. For once, I actually felt refreshed and ready to face the day – whatever it might bring. Which was probably a good thing, since today would be the first time I faced everyone since I regained my memories.

I smiled slightly as I got out of bed. I felt a lot different now than when I had left for Switzerland... and I decided to do something about it. _Watch out, world_. I thought to myself, but _there's a new Sydney Bristow in town. And she's not going to play nice anymore_. And call me petty, but I wanted the CIA what they had forced me to become – and to show Vaughn what he didn't have anymore. My smile grew as I imagined Vaughn's face when he found out who did 'have' me.

After taking a quick shower, I padded out of the bathroom and stood in front of my wardrobe and tried to find something to wear. I wanted to look less like the old Sydney Bristow and more like the woman I had become – even though I was still discovering who she was.

I went through my wardrobe twice and couldn't find anything I liked. I sighed, just before my eyes fell on the pile of shopping bags by the door. Sark's gift. I smiled as I walked over to them. Perfect. Besides, it would be kind of fun to walk around the CIA in a suit Sark had bought me.

The black suit fit me perfectly, as I knew it would. It made me look tall and elegant with its stylish and tailored lines. No matter what else you said about him, Julian Sark definitely had taste. And he also knew what I liked. The suit clung to my curves and I loved how it looked. I added a black, lacy tank top underneath and tried to decide what shoes to wear.

I smiled as my eyes flicked back to the bags. I couldn't help it...I was having fun, and it was all because I was finally beginning to accept who I was, flaws and all. What the hell, I decided and put on the strappy high heels Sark had also bought me. Not exactly common office wear, but they looked damn good. I added a thin silver bracelet and put my hair in a simple twist, before turning to the mirror.

I smiled in pleasure at what I saw. Instead of the worn down and unsure woman I had been ever since waking up in Hong Kong and finding out how much my life had changed, I now looked more like the confidant and poised woman I knew I was. I was back to looking like the CIA agent I was. It was a good feeling.

I took a deep breath and took a final look at myself in the mirror, before grabbing my coat and purse and jacket and heading off to work. I'd pick up some breakfast on the way. Just as I was walking out the door, my cell phone rang. I smiled when I saw who was calling.

"Hello, Sydney."

"Julian." I replied.

"Feel like meeting me after work?" he asked.

"Depends what you have in mind." I answered, knowing I would meet him anyway.

Sark chuckled, the sound sending a shiver up my spine. "Business, I'm afraid. I have a proposition for you."

I smiled. "I'll be interested to hear this _proposition_." I said.

"Good." He said. "Meet me at the pier at 8."

"I'll be there." I said.

Sark chuckled again. "Oh, and Sydney?"

"Yes?"

"Give them hell."

I laughed as I hung up the phone. I slipped on my sunglasses and got in my car. Time to face the day...and show everyone just what Sydney Bristow was made of.

* * *

I walked into the JTF office, my head held high. I noticed the stares that followed me as I went, but I ignored them and kept going. I walked over to my desk and took of my jacket. I put my purse in a draw and turned, needing to talk to Dixon. I blinked in surprise when I came face to face with my father.

"Oh, hi Dad." I said.

"Hi, Sydney." He said. "How was your trip?"

"Interesting, to say the least." I said. "I need to talk to you later."

"Of course." He said. Then he smiled at me. "I'm glad you're back."

I smiled back. "Me, too." I said.

Nodding, Dad turned and left, walking back over towards his office. I sighed, wondering just how much of what had happened I should tell him. I mean, he was my father, and would keep my secret if I asked him to, that much I could be sure of – but he would also want to protect me. And what that might mean, I wasn't sure.

I continued towards Dixon's office, only to run into Vaughn. "Hey Syd." He said.

"Hi." I replied.

There was a moment of silence, and I had to resist the urge to sigh. I didn't want to have to deal with this right now. But it seems luck wasn't on my side this morning. "So, how was your trip?" he asked.

I pasted a smile on my face. "Fine." I said. "Italy is really beautiful this time of year."

Vaughn nodded. "Syd..." he began. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." I said. "Really. There's no need to worry."

"Syd, I just..."

"I'm fine, Vaughn." I told him.

He nodded and gave me a small smile. "Okay."

There was another moment of silence, before I motioned towards Dixon's office. "I need to see Dixon." I said.

"Oh. Sure."

I nodded and walked off. Well, that was awkward. I had a feeling Vaughn wanted to say something else to me, but didn't quite know how. And I wasn't sure I wanted to hear it. I still cared for him, but it was caring as you would for a friend. We had been through a lot together. I'm just not sure Vaughn saw us as just friends, despite his speeches.

I knocked on Dixon's door, before pocking my head in. "Sydney." Dixon smiled. "Come in."

I smiled back, genuinely pleased to see my old friend, despite what I was about to say. "Thanks Dixon."

"So what was on your mind?" he asked when I was sitting before him.

I looked Dixon straight in the eye and came straight to the point. "Dixon, why didn't you tell me you knew where I was for the last two years?"

Dixon looked at me in surprise. "How do you..?"

"I remembered." I interrupted him.

Dixon sighed, almost as if he knew that what he was about to say would be a bad thing. "I couldn't, Syd." He said. "Please understand that. Kendall thought it would be better for you to remember on your own."

I nodded. "I thought that would be the reason."

Dixon looked up at me in surprise. "Syd?" he asked.

I smiled at him. "I might not like it, but I understand you couldn't do anything about it." I said.

"I really am sorry, Syd." Dixon said. "I know how many times people have kept the truth from you and I really didn't want to be another one."

"Thank you." I said. "I don't suppose there's anything else I should know?"

"No, Syd." Dixon said, smiling.

"Good." I said. "I just wanted you to know that I remembered."

I got up to leave, but Dixon's voice stopped me. "Thank you for understanding, Syd. I'd hate to loose our friendship. It means a lot to me."

I turned back and gave Dixon a warm smile. "It means a lot to me too. I really hope nothing changes that."

As I left Dixon's office, I tried to ignore the slight stab of guilt I felt. Dixon still didn't know about my relationship with Sark, and part of me really wanted to tell him. But I couldn't. Not yet. Despite everything, I wanted to tell my father first. It just would feel right, otherwise.

I walked back to my desk, aware of the hard stares a few of the agents were giving me. I frowned in confusion. What was the matter? I was sure they hadn't been doing that when I walked in this morning. I looked up when I got to my desk and found the answer. Lindsey stood there with two other NSC agents beside him.

"Sydney Anne Bristow?" Lindsey asked with a perverse smile on his face.

"Yes?"

"You are under arrest for the crimes of treason, consorting with a known enemy of the United States and the murder of Adrian Lazarey." Lindsey continued. "I may remind you that anything you say and do may be used against you. You can't get out of this one, Bristow."

I stared at Lindsey, my face a careful mask, not showing any of the shock or fear I really felt. This wasn't good. I looked around the room and met my father's eyes. He nodded slightly, and I knew he would fight this as much as he could. I turned my face back to Lindsey as my hands were handcuffed behind my back, noting his smug expression.

I smirked straight back at him, before leaning forward. "I know your secret." I whispered in his ear, before the other agents yanked my backwards.

I smiled at the look of fear in Lindsey's eyes as I was lead out of the JTF office. He was right to be scared. You see, I wasn't the one who was committing treason. Lindsey was. He was a Covenant mole. And I would make sure that he paid for that – just as soon as I got out of this mess.


	12. Arrested!

Author's Note: Okay guys, here's another chapter. I just couldn't stop writing once I had started. But I have to stop now. I have a zillion tonnes of homework...and besides, my tutor's are starting to give me evil looks. I have to go and do it now. I hope to have the next chapter up in about a week, but I can't really promise anything.

Oh, and thanks 1ange for your review! I'm glad you loved it! And stay tuned, coz you may be right...Sark might pay Syd a visit soon! A fan as well! And thanks to everyone else for their comments! Luv ya's all!

Cheeky.

* * *

**Part Twelve**

The NSC agents led me into a small interrogation room in the basement, not far from the cells. They sat me down in one of the metal chairs set up next to a similar metal table, a small tape recorder sitting in its centre, before leaving the room. I put my handcuffed hands on the table in front of me and tried to appear at ease.

I didn't doubt they had a camera or two watching me at the moment, and I knew it was only a matter of time before the questions began. I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the coming interrogation rather than what the hell I was going to do now. Out of all the outcomes of today I had thought of, being arrested by the NSC hadn't been one of them.

It wasn't long until Lindsey joined my in the room, accompanied by another agent. He pressed the record button on the tape recorder and turned to me. "Interview with Agent Sydney Bristow began at 0930. Agents Lindsey and Michaels attending."

Lindsey turned to look at me. "Please answer for the tape. Is your name Sydney Bristow?"

"Yes." I replied shortly.

"And are you currently an agent for the CIA?"

"Yes."

Lindsey threw a couple of photos down on the table in front of me. "And can you tell me if you recognise any of the people in these photos?" he asked.

I looked at the photos in front of me, and raised an eyebrow. It seemed the NSC had been following me for a while. There were a few pictures of me in what looked like Rome, complete with blonde hair. They must have been from my time as Julia Thorne. There was another photo of me meeting with Sark at the pier and again at the airport. They even had a picture of us kissing.

Instead of answering Lindsey's question, I simply returned to staring at him, my face betraying no emotion. I have been interrogated more than a few times during my life as a spy, and they were all a whole lot more painful than this. But I hadn't broken. Not once. Lindsey wasn't going to get anything out of me.

"Agent Bristow, answer the question!" Lindsey snapped.

I just kept staring at him. I could see he was beginning to get a little uncomfortable at my attention. "Who are you working for?" Lindsey tried another tack.

No answer. "Do you work for Mr. Sark?"

I remained silent. "Are you Mr. Sark's lover?"

"Do you work for the Covenant?" Lindsey snapped, getting annoyed.

It was at that point, Michaels put a hand on Lindsey's shoulder, as if to calm him. He slid another photo towards me. "Did you kill Adrian Lazarey?"

I looked down at the picture of me, complete with blonde hair, calmly slitting Lazarey's throat. I had to suppress a shudder at the sight. I remembered doing it now, and it was one of the things that I would regret for the rest of my life, no matter how necessary it had been.

I continued to say nothing, and after another round of questions, both agents gave up. "Interview suspended at 10:15." Lindsey said.

Then he turned to me. "Perhaps a night in a cell will make you more talkative, Miss Bristow." He said.

I looked him straight in the eyes. "You'll have to try a lot harder than that if you want to get me to talk." I told him, and had the pleasure of seeing him scowl and storm out.

Michaels also turned to leave, before giving me one last considering look. There was a hint of admiration in his eyes, as if he was acknowledging my resistance. I looked straight back at him, letting him see just how far he would have to go to get me to talk. I was not someone who would break easily, and I think he knew that.

Once he had gone, I sat in silence, knowing that the questions hadn't finished yet. Not by half.

* * *

I looked around me at the cell I had spent so much time looking into from the other side of the glass. The one in which I was now standing. My mother's cell. I thought it was rather appropriate. I sighed and rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness. I walked over and sat on the lumpy mattress that was the only covering on the old spring bed. I guess I was too evil to even get a blanket.

The round after round of interrogations had finally ended after they realised that no matter what they promised me, or threatened me with, I wasn't going to tell them anything. And, to make things worse, by now my friends and my father would know exactly what I had been charged with – and who I had been with. So much for breaking it to them gently.

I sighed again and got up, pacing from one side of my tiny cell to the other. I had to get out of here. I continued pacing, my mind whirling as I tried to think of a way out of here. I would probably need a weapon. But what? This cell had probably held a lot of enemy spies before me, and almost all of them would have tried to escape.

As my eyes searched my cell for anything I could use, I caught sight of my faint reflection in the glass. With my long brown hair unbound and my outfit of sleeveless black top, loose black pants and rubber shoes that they had made me change into, I looked just like my mother had. I had to smile at that. It was just so fitting.

My thoughts drifted to my mother and the way she had gotten out of here. But I doubted anyone here would let me near a computer. They couldn't be that stupid.

Suddenly I heard the echoing clang of metal gates opening. It seemed someone was coming to visit me. I hoped it wasn't for another round of questioning. I waited patiently to see who it would be. I can't say I really cared. I turned to see a pair of familiar green eyes staring at me.

"Sydney."

"Vaughn."

We stared at each other for a minute, his eyes searching mine for something; mine slightly bored. "Are you sleeping with him?" he finally burst out.

"Him?" I asked, pretending not to know who he meant.

"Sark."

I thought about the answer. Was I? I knew I had been, back when I was pretending to be Julia Thorne. I had the memories to prove it. But now? I hadn't yet, despite what happened on the plane. I tried hard not to blush at that memory.

I looked at Vaughn and wondered what answer to give him. In the end, I decided on the simplest would be best. "Yes."

Vaughn looked at me in horror and slight confusion. "Why?"

Because Julian accepted me. Because he understood me. Because he trusted me with his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he challenged me, frustrated me and annoyed the hell out of me. Because he would die for me. Because I loved him. And because he was as sexy as hell – not that I would ever admit the last bit to him.

I stared at Vaughn and realised he wouldn't understand all that. Vaughn saw the world too much in black and white for that. In his mind, Sark was evil and I was one of the good guys. Good and evil didn't fall in love, they just fought each other.

I cocked my head slightly to the side. "He accepts me for who I am, shadows and all." I said.

That stung. I could see it in his eyes. Vaughn had never accepted that part of me. Not really. It was the part that could let one innocent person get hurt or hurt them myself in order to save one hundred innocent people. It didn't mean I liked it, but I understood the reason. Vaughn couldn't. He was too much of a boy scout. That was one of the main differences between him and Sark. Vaughn saw the world in black and white while Julian understood it was grey.

"He accepts you?" Vaughn echoed, his tone angry and incredulous.

"Yes." I said. "What would you rather I said? I'm sleeping with him because he's cute?"

"Yes."

Vaughn's blunt answer surprised me. It also made me angry. "Well, I'm not going to lie to make you feel better." I snapped. "You've moved on with your life. And now, so have I."

"But with Sark?"

"What is your problem?" I fixed Vaughn with a hard stare. "Why are you so upset?"

"I'm upset because you're sleeping with a known terrorist1" Vaughn snapped back. "He's a cold-blooded killer!"

"No." I said. "He's a man who lives life by his own set of rules."

"I can't believe you're defending him!"

"Well, I am!" I snapped.

Vaughn stared at me in silence. "What's happened to you, Sydney?" he asked softly, his expression sad.

I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "I woke up after fighting Allison Doren to find I was missing two years of my life, I was thought to be dead, my boyfriend had married someone else and my father was in prison." I said.

"Only to discover," I continued. "That my memories had been taken from me and I had actually been working as a double agent against the Covenant after they tried to brainwash me into thinking I was someone else!" And discovering I had fallen in love with Julian Sark, I added silently. "That's enough to change anyone's perspective on life."

Vaughn looked at me in shock. I had forgotten Vaughn hadn't known about me being a double agent. "You were a double agent?" he asked. "The Covenant tried to brainwash you?"

"Yes." I said. "For nine months. If you want more details you'll have to ask Kendall. Or Dixon."

Vaughn was still looking at me, but I could tell he wasn't seeing me anymore. I could almost see the gears turning in his mind – and for a second I got an idea of what it felt to be my mother and watch everyone trying to find out something I already knew. It was rather weird, because I wasn't trying to manipulate Vaughn.

Vaughn suddenly turned around and left, leaving me alone with thoughts of my mother. Ironically I was beginning to understand her better now that I was in CIA custody. And understand, sort of, why she manipulated people. Even though she had never manipulated me. Not really. She had always given me enough space to figure things out on my own, and I would always respect her for that.

I sighed and lay down on the mattress. I wondered what my mother had done to stay sane in here. Probably plan her escape. I sighed again. I'd already tried that and hadn't come up with anything. Then a thought struck me. Maybe my memories held something that could help me. And if not, it was probably I sorted through them anyway. I knew most of what had happened to me during the last two years, as in the major events and feelings, but I couldn't really remember the little things. It was almost like they happened to another person.

But there was one thing I knew without a doubt – I loved Sark. It was something I had never really forgotten. The feeling had been there, making me trust Sark without knowing why. But now...now I could remember all those stolen moments together, where I could almost forget I was leading a double life – not that I had much of a life these days anyway.

I smiled softly to myself and put my arms behind my head. I remember the first time I had seen Sark after the Covenant had captured me. Back when he had thought I was dead and I still thought he was a cold-blooded murderer.

* * *

_I stared at myself in the mirror, still trying to get used to the blonde hair – and the last mission I had gone on for the Covenant. It had been a straight assassination of one of the former members of the Alliance. Georg Mikailov had done some pretty evil things in his life, but that hadn't made pulling the trigger any easier. Something changed in you the minute you commit murder – something dies. It didn't make it any easier that I had had to do it to preserve my cover. I couldn't let the Covenant find out I still remembered who I was. But that murder was something that would haunt me for the rest of my life._

_It was different from what I usually did, strange as it may sound. I guess its because when someone attacks you, you killing them is to protect yourself and your partner. Not staring down the sight of a rifle at someone in the street below before coldly pulling the trigger without him even knowing you are there..._

"_Julia?" said a voice behind me._

_I turned around and banished those thoughts from my head. "Sir." I said._

_The man wearing the expensive suit smiled. "How many times do I have to ask you to call me Joseph?" he said._

_I smiled back, trying to hide my revulsion. "At least once more, Mr. Rhys."_

_Rhys chuckled. "Well, Julia, there is someone I would like you to meet."_

_I nodded. "Of course."_

_I stepped forward as Rhys held open the door, before following him down a corridor to one of the many debriefing rooms in the Covenant complex – and I saw the last man I expected to see: Sark._

"_Julia, I would like to meet our new operative, Mr. Sark." Rhys said. "Mr. Sark, I'd like you to meet our new top agent, Julia Thorne. She was responsible for the recent demise of Mr. Mikailov."_

_Sark turned around, and I saw astonishment flicker across his features. And it surprised me. Sark never betrayed that much emotion. But the look disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and Sark was once again the charming killer I knew so well._

"_Pleased to meet you, Miss Thorne." He said._

"_Likewise." I replied._

_Rhys gestured to the desk, and both Sark and I sat down in front of it. Rhys sat down in the large chair behind the desk. "The Covenant believes the two of you would make a great team. So you should probably get to know each other as soon as possible."_

"_May I ask what the mission is?" I asked._

"_You'll know as soon as we do." Rhys got up. "I'll leave you two alone to have a chat."_

_The two of us sat together in silence for a minute after Rhys had left, before Sark spoke. "So, Julia." He began. "What brings you to work for the Covenant?"_

_I thought about my answer for a second, trying to do what I had done for those two long years at SD-6. It was almost as if I became a different person; like I separated off the part of me that was Sydney Bristow and became Julia Thorne._

"_Contract killing became less of a challenge that it had been, so I decided to try something new." I said bluntly, knowing Julia was the type of woman who would enjoy shocking a man like Sark._

_But I can't say Sydney Bristow didn't enjoy the look of quickly hidden surprise either._

"_You were a contract killer?" Sark asked, once his mask was back in place._

"_I discovered I was good at it, ever since I hunted down and killed the men who murdered my family." I said._

_Sark was silent for a minute, as if he wasn't sure what to say. "Forgive me for asking this, Miss Thorne, but have we ever met before?"_

"_I don't believe so." I replied._

"_Well," Sark said. "It was nice meeting you. And I look forward to working with you in future."_

_I smiled slightly as he left, before getting up and quickly creeping to the door. I could have sworn I heard Sark say "Fuck!" as he walked away. I had to smile._

* * *

I smiled at the memory and stared up and the ceiling of the cell. It was one of the first times I had truly unsettled Sark (which was something I enjoyed doing) and it was one of the first times the façade had cracked, showing the man underneath. A man I had since fallen in love with. But there was a time where I had thought of Sark as nothing more than a killer with a new master – the Covenant – before I realised just how much he hated them.

It had been very hard, those first few months as Julia Thorne. I was very used to having someone to talk to, at least a little, and when I didn't have one anymore it was hard. Surprisingly – then, although not so much anymore – Sark had given me comfort. Or at least he had when he let me see the man inside and stopped being such a cocky bastard.

The first time that happened, was just after I had slipped my first lot of information to my CIA contact. It was also the day after I had confronted Kendall and realised that, not only did all my friends and family think I was dead, but Vaughn was seeing someone else.

That day will always be a vivid memory, I fear. I can still feel the devastating sense of betrayal I had felt as I watched Vaughn kiss a pretty blonde – Lauren, now his wife – goodnight. By the time Sark confronted me, I was so hurt and angry, I was ready to explode. And I did.

* * *

_I walked easily through the crowd, trying to blend in. Around me, people hurried past and I could hear the many church bells ringing out their morning message. I was grateful that the Covenant finally trusted me enough to give me my own apartment in Rome. It made things a lot easier._

_Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into a nearby alley. I lost my balance before I could react and the next thing I knew, I was being slammed up against the wall. I winced slightly when my head hit the stones behind me, the pain sharp and fierce._

_I blinked and found myself staring into a pair of cold blue eyes, glittering with anger. "Who the hell are you working for?" Sark growled in a low voice._

_I struggled against his grip, but his whole weight was behind it and I couldn't get free. "I don't know what you're talking about!" I snapped._

_Sark gave me a cold glare. "Don't play dumb with me." He said. "It doesn't suit you."_

"_I'm not playing dumb." I said coldly, my mind whirling. How much did he know? And what did he want?_

"_Who are you working for?" Sark demanded again, giving me a shake for emphasis._

"_The Covenant." I said. "Just like you."_

"_Miss Thorne, I must warn you I am not a patient man." He growled._

_I gave a short laugh. I couldn't help it. I still wasn't used to everyone thinking I was someone else. But that didn't mean I was going to let Sark push me around. With a savage twist, I wrenched myself out of his grip and dealt him a hard spinning kick, slamming him against the wall._

"_Piss off, you cocky bastard." I snapped. "I don't need you smug face in mine. I have enough problems already."_

_I let him go, thoroughly tired and annoyed with the situation I was in. Wasn't it enough that my family and friends thought I was dead, I was working for an evil organisation that kept telling me to kill people and my boyfriend was now involved with someone else? Did I have to deal with this British bastard as well?_

"_My God." Sark whispered. "Sydney?"_

_I gave him a cold stare and a sardonic smile. "Who else?"_

_Sark unconsciously straightened his suit as he continued to stare at me. "The Covenant believes they've brainwashed you." He said._

"_Yeah, I know."_

"_And the man you just met with would be your CIA contact." He mused out loud._

"_Yeah." I said again, somewhat sarcastically. "And if you tell anyone, I'll kill you."_

_Sark glanced sharply at me at my words. Then he grabbed my arm again. "Come on." He said. "We can't talk here."_

"_Let me go!" I snapped as he dragged me further down the alley._

"_No." he said as he pushed open a narrow door._

_I struggled for a bit and sighed. Sark was an evil bastard, but right now he was an evil bastard that knew my secret. I had no choice but to go along with him and he knew it. Sark led me through a maze of stairs, corridors, balconies and across rooftops, before unlocking the door to a beautiful apartment._

_He ushered me inside, before shutting and locking the door. "Sit down." He said._

_I looked at him with a raised eyebrow, before ignoring him and wandering about. I found myself liking the place, despite who owned it. The apartment was just one large room with a few partitions to separate the bedroom and the kitchen. It was elegantly decorated with light, subtle colours – and fitted Sark perfectly._

"_The Covenant doesn't know about this place, do they?" I didn't really ask, since I already knew the answer._

"_No."_

_Sark watched me carefully, a slightly sad expression on his face. "Was Mikhailov the first man you killed in cold blood?" he asked softly._

_I turned away from Sark and stared out one of the large windows at the garden beyond. "Second." I said emotionlessly. "The Covenant made me kill a man to prove the brainwashing had worked."_

_For what its worth," he whispered, "I'm sorry you had to do that."_

_I'm not sure what it was – the genuine sympathy or understanding in his tone – but I suddenly I burst into tears, grieving both for the two men I had murdered and the innocence I had lost. Pathetic, aren't I? Strong, until someone offers a word of comfort and then I start wailing like a little girl._

_I wiped my tears away angrily. I turned back to glare at Sark. "You must be loving this." I said bitterly. "Sydney Bristow killing for the Covenant. I've finally become as bad as the people I try and stop."_

"_No, you're not." Sark said softly. "They wouldn't be upset by it."_

_Sark handed me a box of tissues, a look of sadness and understanding in his eyes. "Killing only gets easier if you let it. Trust me, I know."_

_I glanced sharply at him and finally noticed he had lost some of his cold mask. "You needn't look at me so warily, Sydney." He said, shrugging out of his jacket and sitting on the couch. "I'm not going to hurt you."_

_Sark's tone was weary and it almost seemed like he was battling something. "Then what do you want?" I asked._

_He looked at me consideringly. "Your help." he said bluntly._

"_To do what?"_

"_Take down the Covenant."_

_I looked at him in surprise, even though I shouldn't have been. Sark didn't just play spy for anyone. And, I could sure as hell use his help if I ever wanted my life back. But there was one thing I needed to know first._

"_Why?" I asked. "Why do you want to take down the Covenant?"_

_There was that considering look in his eyes again. "My reasons are personal." He said._

"_Revenge?" I asked, curious._

"_Something like that." He agreed._

"_And I suppose in exchange for my help, you won't tell the Covenant I'm a double agent?" The bitterness was back in my tone. I hated the way everyone was trying to use me. The Covenant, the CIA...and now Sark._

"_Don't you want to bring down the Covenant?" Sark smirked at me._

"_Of course I do!" I snapped, and felt my anger rise. I had a short temper these days and this was the final straw. "I just don't like being used and manipulated! By the Covenant, the CIA or you!"_

_I walked over to Sark and stuck my face in his. "So whatever it is that you're planning, you can shove it up your ass! And if you really want my help, then you're going to have to play it my way."_

_I pulled away slightly and watched an unreadable expression flicker across Sark's features. Then he gave me an admiring glance and stood. "Very well." He said, sticking out a hand. "It's a deal."_

_I warily put my hand in his, conscious of the fact I might just have made a deal with the Devil. And Sark certainly fit the part: dangerous, mysterious, sexy...now where had that thought come from?_

_Mentally I shook my head as I returned Sark's handshake. His palm was warm and slightly calloused. _Probably from holding all those guns_, I thought. "Deal." I agreed._

_As Sark let go of my hand, he gave me a smirk. "So much for never working with me Bristow."_

_I sat down on the couch and looked up at him. Usually, I hated doing that because it gives whoever's standing an advantage – seemingly, anyway. But I didn't mind so much with Sark. We had always been rather evenly matched, and we each also had the knack of unsettling each other easily when others couldn't at all. Somehow, I didn't think standing or sitting mattered all that much._

_Sark sat down opposite me, in an armchair, looking perfectly cool and at ease. "You know," he said conversationally. "You look good as a blonde."_

_Self-consciously, I put a hand up to my dyed locks. "It's not like I had much choice in the matter." I said. "But thank you."_

_Sark simply smiled. I felt somewhat surprised at the lack of smirk. After a minute, he raised an eyebrow. "What, no return compliment?"_

_I cocked my head to the side. "I'm still thinking of one." I said._

_Sark looked surprised for a second, before he laughed. It was the first free, unforced laugh I had ever heard from him and I felt myself smiling back. "Although, I suppose I could say you look goo as a blonde too."_

_Sark's eyes twinkled with humour as he grinned at me. It struck me then just how handsome my nemesis was. Normally Sark was good looking, but without his cold and emotionless mask, he was downright devastating._

_And why the hell did I keep thinking about that? Damn it, he was my enemy! Even if it seemed he was the only certain thing in my messed up life – Sark didn't change for anyone. All the same, recognising how good he looked was not helping uncomplicated my life. It was probably doing to opposite._

_I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, reality intruding once more. It amazed me to realise that Sark had helped me forget my problems – at least for a little while. As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Sark spoke. "Want to talk about it?"_

_I looked at him and noticed the understanding expression on his face. He looked...well, softer than when he was on a mission; less business-like. I took a deep breath. Some sort of instinct made me trust him – just a little, but enough. And Sark would understand what I was going through. So I told him. I actually opened up to the man I considered my enemy, knowing he would understand better than anyone else._

_I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. "Where do I start?" I sighed and looked at Sark. "I just want you to know, that I'm really trusting you here. Because, if you wanted to, you could really destroy me."_

"_I don't want to destroy you Sydney." Sark said softly. "I never have."_

_I looked at the serious expression on his face and realised he really meant it. The part of me that wanted to trust Sark rejoiced...and even the part of me that didn't, had to admit maybe Sark wasn't as bad as I thought._

"_Well, if you don't, my life will." I said._

_Sark merely raised an eyebrow in curiosity._

"_As you already know, the Covenant kidnapped me after my fight with Allison Doren and spent the next nine months trying to brainwash me into believing I was someone else."_

"_But you never broke." Sark said._

"_No, I never broke." I said softly, the words bringing back dark memories filled with blood, pain and four echoing words: I am Julia Thorne._

_I had never broken, that's true. But I had come so close too many times. It was out of desperation that I had finally begun to let them believe they were wining._

"_After they believed I had been completely brainwashed, they asked me to prove my loyalty. So I did, and killed a man whose name I never knew." I continued. "Then I spent the next two months in training, learning skills I'd never had to use before."_

"_And then I turned up." Sark said._

"_Yes, although you weren't much of a problem until today. I was actually quite happy to keep letting you believe I was Julia Thorne." I answered._

"_Then why tell me now?"_

_I smiled softly. "Because, believe it or not, I think you'd understand."_

_Sark looked at me, somewhat startled and amazed. I think it was the first time in a long time that someone had trusted Sark enough to do something like this. And I can't really explain why I did. Maybe I was desperate for someone to understand what I was going through – but I didn't really think so._

_I shook my head slightly, realising I had been lost in thought for a minute. "Anyway," I began again. "A few days ago, I finally contacted the CIA. Only to find that my friends and family think I'm dead and Vaughn has forgotten me rather quickly."_

"_Ah, your former handler." Sark said, recognising the name. "Are you sure he's forgotten you so easily? You're not as easy to forget as you think, Sydney."_

"_You're not the one who saw him kissing some blonde!" I said bitterly._

_To my horror, I felt tears slipping down my face. "I had to see him, Sark!" I said. "I thought we were in love! I couldn't just let him think I was dead! And then I saw him kissing someone else..." I trailed off, sniffing._

"_And you felt betrayed." Sark finished for me. "You're right. I do understand."_

_I sniffed again and wiped my eyes. "Thank you, Sark."_

_Sark flashed me another knock-out smile. "Please," he said. "If you're going to bare everything to me, at least call me Julian."_

"_Julian?"_

"_It's my first name." he said. "And now you know more about me than most of my previous employers."_

* * *

That was the start of a weird and beautiful relationship between us. The moment we stopped being just enemies, and became something more. Although, it would take us a bit longer to realise it. I sighed, and shifted slightly on the mattress. Sark had been right all those years ago. We did make a good team.

My thoughts were interrupted by the clanging of the gate. It seemed I was about to get another visitor. I didn't even bother sitting up, not really in the mood to see anyone – because, I'd either have to face another round of questioning from Lindsey, or someone else would want to know why I had trusted Sark.

"Sydney?"

But I have to say, the voice surprised me. I sat up and swung my feet to the floor, looking at my visitor. "Dixon?" I asked.

"We need to talk." He told me, firmly.

Uh, oh.


	13. Breaking Out

**Part Thirteen**

I stood up and stared Dixon straight in the eye. "What do we need to talk about?" I asked.

_And here it comes,_ I thought. _The: how could you Sydney? And: Why? He's a killer! _The last thing I needed right now was a lecture about who I chose to sleep with. Or what I chose to do about it.

Dixon sighed. "Are you really sleeping with him?" he asked.

I looked at my dormer partner, considering what to tell him. Although after all we'd been through, he deserved the truth – and I could give him no less. "I was." I told him. "During my missing two years."

"But not anymore?"

I smiled at him, but I knew the smile didn't quite reach my eyes. "I only recently regained my missing memories." I said. "You could say I haven't had the chance."

A shadow flickered over Dixon's face, as he nodded slightly. "Can I ask why?" he said softly.

This time I gave Dixon a genuine smile. "Always." Then my smile fell. "You just probably won't believe me."

"Try me."

I looked Dixon straight in the eye. "I love him, Dixon." I said levelly, holding up a hand to stop his interruption. "I know that sounds hard to believe, but I do. I've never felt this way about anyone before – not even Danny."

Dixon nodded thoughtfully. Then he flicked a glance towards the security cameras and leaned forward. I raised my eyes when I saw him press a familiar button on his watch. "Syd, we've got about 30 seconds before they can hear us." He said quickly. "I know that you already know this, but Syd, they can't find out about Sark's involvement with the CIA."

"I do know that." I said. And I sure as hell wasn't going to jeopardise everything by blurting that out, either.

Dixon winced. "I'm sorry, Syd, but..."

"It's all right. I understand."

Dixon gave me a grateful smile. "I also have a message from you' father: hold tight, because he's going to find you a way out of here."

I nodded. That sounded like my father, all right. "I'll be ready." I said.

Dixon almost grimaced when the watch beeped. Time was up. "Hold on, Syd. And be careful."

I nodded and watched Dixon leave, and found myself alone once more. After a while, I lay back down on the bed. There was nothing else to do but wait. I smiled briefly. I could always dig around in my memories again...

* * *

_I jerked my head up at the sound of a faint footstep. Wiping the tears from my eyes with my free hand, I pointed my gun in the direction of the sound. Angrily, I snapped, "What do you want, Sark?"_

_He seemed unsurprised, both at the way I had known it was him and the way I was still pointing a gun at his head. "I was merely stopping by for one of our usual chats, Sydney." He said. "No need to get hostile."_

"_I don't need this right now, Sark." I snapped._

"_Need what?" he asked, walking forward and coming to sit on the couch beside me._

_I sighed, putting my gun away. "You and you're constant needling!"_

_Sark looked at me. "And what has upset the famous Agent Bristow today?" he asked sarcastically._

"_Shut up!" I snarled. "Just piss off, you selfish bastard."_

"_Now, now, Sydney..."_

"_You're right." I said, drawing my gun and pointing it at him again. "Now."_

_Sark smirked at me. "Even when I've brought you some new information to give to your CIA contact?" He fished a disk out of his jacket pocket._

"_Fine." I said. "Leave the disk and go."_

_Sark simply did as he was asked and turned to leave, before turning back. "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to trust me a little, Sydney." He said._

"_And it wouldn't hurt you to sometimes pretend you're not a selfish prick." I retorted. "Besides, you're not exactly a great one to talk about trust. You don't exactly trust me with much either."_

_Sark looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "What did you want to know?" he said seriously._

_I looked at him warily, before putting the gun down on the coffee table in front of me. "Where were you born?"_

"_Can I sit down?"_

_I nodded, wondering if he would answer the question. Surprisingly, he did. "Galway, Ireland."_

"_So Marshall was right." I muttered._

"_Yes, your friend is quite the genius."_

_I looked at him. "Who were your parents?"_

"_Oh, no." Sark said. "It's my turn to ask a question now. Trust works both ways."_

_I glared at him, but realised that this was probably the only way I was going to get anything out of him. "Fine." I said._

"_Why were you crying?" he asked._

"_Because I've killed two men in cold blood." I said shortly._

"_Ah, your last mission." Sark's casual sounding words brought back that feeling of cold control that you have as you aim a sniper's rifle at someone. And then the bleak and utter emptiness that engulfs you the moment you take the shot. Because, you know deep in your mind, that you have just committed murder – even as you experience that momentary bemusement that a life is so easy to end._

"_Yes." I said, my eyes squeezed shut. I forced myself to open them and shoved the feelings out of my mind. "So, who were your parents?" I asked, repeating my earlier question, trying to change subjects._

_From the look in Sark's eyes, I know he knew what I was trying to do, but he didn't push me. "Anna Sark and Adrian Lazarey." He said emotionlessly, in answer to my question._

"_That's it?" I asked, surprised at his cold and simple answer. "Are they only names to you or something?"_

"_You asked me who my parents were and I told you." Sark replied._

"_Jesus." I said. "You're even colder than I thought."_

"_Oh, and how would you describe your parents, Agent Bristow?" Sark asked coldly._

_His tone sent shivers up my spine, and I stared at him. And, taking a deep breath, I told him the truth. My eyes flickered shut, and I pictured my father's face. We'd never been the closest of people, but...he was my father. "My father is a man who has never gotten over his wife's betrayal and, despite everything, still loves her. He never let's anyone anymore, because he's scared he'll get hurt again. He uses distance as a defence and his work has been his life for so long that he doesn't know anything else." I said softly._

"_And your mother?" Sark prompted just as softly._

"_I barely know my mother." I said. "I have these memories of her singing to me. Or telling me stories. For most of my life, she was this perfect woman who loved her daughter so much. And then I found out the truth about her death, and...I don't know who she is anymore."_

"_To me, she will always be my saviour, mentor and protector. Irina looked after me when my mother was killed." Sark whispered so softly, I barely heard him. "She gave me the skills I needed to survive in a world full of lies and shadows."_

"_What happened to your mother?" I asked, opening my eyes to look at him._

"_My father had her killed." He said, his eyes slightly clouded with memory. "I was twelve."_

"_Jesus." I whispered._

_Sark looked at me. "She was KGB, just like your mother. They were the same age when they were recruited: 16. They went through training together. My mother was given an assignment a few years after Irina left. She was sent to seduce Adrian Lazarey for information."_

"_But she fell pregnant." I guessed._

"_Yes." Sark replied. "The KGB would never let her keep the baby, so she fled and made herself a new home. When your mother found out, she helped as much as she could. It was just after that she left the KGB and became a freelancer."_

"_But your father found her eventually."_

"_And killed her. Irina promised her that she would look after me if anything happened to her." Sark continued. "Irina kept her promise and taught me what I needed to know."_

_I leaned back against the couch and shut my eyes. "Do you love her?" I asked._

_I felt Sark give me a long look. "Yes." He whispered._

_When I opened my eyes again, he was gone, just as I knew he would be. Sark had finally let someone past the defences that had kept him alive all his life. And now he was running scared. But I can't say I wasn't either. I had just shared more of my feeling with Sark that I had with anyone else in my life – even Vaughn._

* * *

I smiled where I lay. For years, Sark and I had been adversaries, enemies and, in a strange way, colleagues. We could get under each others skin so easily where others could not – and we had an uncanny way of knowing what the other was thinking. It made us one of the best teams the Covenant had – and blossomed into a kind of friendship that I never expected to have again.

Sark never spoke more than a few words for a week or so after that conversation. And then, one day, he simply came back to my apartment and thanked me. I still remember standing there completely stunned. One minute I had been alone, the next Sark was there, and then he was gone again.

We fell into a routine after that, conversations at my apartment, training at his. He taught me as much as he could. Ways to appear in control, to hide my emotions and ways to deal with what I was forced to do. I was and will forever be grateful to Julian for that. Slowly, we let each other in...sharing thoughts and feelings that we thought could never be shared.

And even more than that, during those two years, Sark had seen me at my worst. And he hadn't run. No matter what, he had always been there, whether I wanted him there or not. And he never tried to hide the truth from me. In fact, there was a time or two when he was the one that forced me to face it. It seemed almost inevitable that we would end up as lovers, but it had always been more than that.

I blinked, amazed that tears had begun to prickle in my eyes. I remember the last time I had seen Sark before my memories had been taken from me. It was on the eve of a mission and Sloane had asked me to meet him somewhere. I had agreed, hoping to get some evidence to prove he was the leader of the Covenant for the CIA to use. Sark had not been happy. He told me something was wrong, and I hadn't believed him. I should have.

You wouldn't expect it, but Sark has quite the temper under all that icy control. And when he gets angry enough with me, he tends to yell. And then I yell back. It was once hell of an argument that night – and a startling realisation as well.

* * *

"_You are not going to meet Sloane." Sark snapped._

_I hated it when people began to tell me what I could and couldn't do! It was just as well we were safely hidden in Sark's Rome apartment, because I was going to let that smug, arrogant bastard know it! "And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?!" I snapped right back._

"_Damn it, Sydney, I not playing here!"_

"_Neither am I! This could give me the proof I need to get rid of Sloane, once and for all!"_

"_I still think it's a set up!" Sark snarled, spinning away._

"_Don't you walk away!" I growled back. "What makes you so sure this is a setup?"_

_Sark spun, his blue eyes flashing with anger. "Because it's too easy. Sloane never makes things easy."_

"_And you don't think I could handle it?!" I snapped. "Damn you, Sark! I am just as good as you, and won't have you telling me I'm not – or trying to protect me because you're a man and I'm some helpless woman!"_

"_Bloody Hell, Sydney!" Sark yelled, grabbing me by the arm. "I'm not trying to protect you because of some sense of out-dated chivalry!"_

"_Let go of me." I snapped in a cold voice._

"_Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"_

'_Yes." I said icily. "You're an arrogant bastard who won't let me find the key that will let me leave this hell!"_

"_This hell?" Sark echoed, his face turning expressionless. "I guess it has been."_

"_Oh, don't you use that distance with me, Julian Sark!" I snapped. "You know very well that I hate having to be at the beck and call of the very people I want to destroy!"_

"_And is that all you hate?" Sark asked, his face never changing and his tone cold and level._

_I stopped and stared at him in shock. "You bastard!" I growled._

_I could feel the anger beating in my blood and twisting in my stomach, eating away at my self-control. Taking a deep breath to try and suppress the urge to break his face, I spun away from Sark. "I'm going." I said._

"_No you're not!" Sark growled, his hand grabbing my arm._

"_Why, damn it?!"_

"_Because I love you!"_

_I stood there, completely stunned as Sark's words echoed around me. He loved me? I saw the distraught and frightened look in his eyes as he turned away and almost began running towards the door. But I was faster._

"_Oh, no you don't." I said, holding the door closed before he could open it. "You don't just say that and walk off."_

_Sark just glared at me, his mask back in place. "Get out of my way." He said in a deadly voice._

"_Not until you say it again." I replied, as deadly serious as he was._

_Sark laughed, but there was no humour in it. "You're just loving this aren't you?" he asked. "Finally you have a weakness that you can exploit and use to destroy me."_

"_Just say it!" I growled._

_I saw Sark take a shuddering breath, and he looked me dead in the eye. "I love you, Sydney." He said finally._

_I closed my eyes and let the words wash over me. My skin tingled all over and I had to struggle to open my eyes and focus on keeping my tone as business-like as possible. "Good, because I love you too." I said, before crossing my arms. "But I'm still going to see Sloane."_

"_Damn it, Syd..." he broke off as his eyes widened. "What did you just say?"_

"_I'm still going to see Sloane." I repeated._

"_Not that!" Sark snapped, his control finally shattering._

"_I love you, Julian." I echoed in the same tone he had used._

"_Don't you use that bloody tone with me." He said, before crushing his mouth to mine._

_This kiss was hard, brutal and out of control. None of us could hold back. But beneath everything was the echo of our words: love. And that made my bones melt far more than the passion that was making my blood heat._

_I kissed him back with as much passion, love and bruising force as he was showing me, revelling in his intoxicatingly dark taste. When I finally dragged my mouth away from his, I was breathing hard. "I have to go, Julian." I said, my voice soft and throaty._

"_I know." He said. "I wish you didn't have to, but I know."_

_Sark rested his forehead against mine. "Just be careful, Syd." He said. "I need you to come back."_

_I looked up into Sark's beautiful blue eyes, that for the first time seemed to be full of love and tenderness, softening them. "I'll never forget this Julian, and I'll never leave you. I promise."_

_Sark opened his mouth, and I knew what he was about to ask. I put my finger to his lips. "No, not even my father or the CIA can stop me." I said._

_Sark gave me a smile straight from the heart and pulled me close. "I love you, Sydney Bristow." He whispered._

"_And I love you, Julian Sark." I replied._

* * *

I blinked as a single tear rolled down my cheek. I would make Sloane pay for what he did to us, that I knew. I brushed the tear away, not willing to dwell on the pain I had caused Sark by not coming back from that meeting, especially since I promised him I wouldn't leave.

But Sark would always claim that I had proved my loyalty to him the moment I killed his father. He hadn't known I'd gone to kill him, but he had known the moment I had walked back into his apartment, blood on my jacket and a haunted look in my eyes. I had killed Adrian Lazarey in cold blood because he had been planning to assassinate Sark – just like he had killed his mother. And I wasn't going to let that happen.

I sat up, suddenly feeling restless. I got to me feet and tried to ease the feeling by rolling my neck and stretching my cramped muscles. I eased life back into my limbs, but the stretches did nothing to relieve my restlessness. I have always been an active person and forced confinement always made me restless and annoyed – as did the constant questions and accusations from people I had thought of as friends.

I sighed, stifling my annoyance and frustration and poured my energy into drilling and training as much as I could in the cramped space. I was halfway through a set of push-ups when I heard it. It was not the rhythmic and controlled opening of the metal gates – the closing of one before the echoing clang of another opening. The sound echoed down the corridor as gate after gate opened, but never shut.

I got to my feet warily and turned to stare at the door to my cell. I knew that they were coming for me – and it wasn't for another round of questioning.

The door to my cell opened, revealing an armed man standing in the doorway. He wore a mask and was dressed in black from head to toe. As I watched, the man reached up and pulled off his mask, revealing a familiar, smirking face. "Hello, Syd." Sark said.

I grinned. "Hello, Julian." I greeted.

Sark passed me a gun, and I raised my eyebrow in surprise when I saw it was a tranquilizer gun, just like his. Sark shrugged slightly. "Let's go." He said.

I nodded, walking quickly to the door. Acting on impulse, I gave Sark a quick kiss on the way out. "Thanks for busting me out." I said.

"You're welcome." Sark answered.

The two of us began to run, sprinting down the corridor, gun held in front of us. I slowed down when I spotted a lithe figure waiting just inside the JTF office. Sark nodded at the woman and she took a place on my other side.

I watched Sark in slight amazement and amusement as he walked casually through the JTF office as if he had every right to do so. Taking my lead from him, I lowered my gun and did the same. We walked down towards the parking garage and I noticed the unconscious bodies of a few agents along the way.

Suddenly a voice rang out behind us. "CIA! Freeze!"

I glance at Sark from the corner of my eye and he nodded slightly. "Drop the weapons and raise your hands!" the voice continued.

I turned slowly, raising my hands slightly, the gun still in my hand. "How about: no?" I said.

"Don't do this Syd." Said a new voice. Vaughn.

He stood next to the guard, a few meters away. Both men were pointing their guns at me. I raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to shoot me, Vaughn?"

"Damn it, Syd!" Vaughn snapped. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me, Vaughn." I said coolly. "I just don't like being accused and betrayed by the people I thought would defend me."

I saw the recognition in Vaughn's eyes. "Syd..." he began, but I didn't want to listen to anymore of his excuses.

I moved quickly and felt Sark do the same beside me. I shot Vaughn with a dart and watched him crumple to the ground. I turned back towards the garage, just as several more guards arrived.

"Free..." one began to yell, but it was no use. We were too fast for them.

The woman shot two in quick succession with tranquilizer darts as Sark and I dealt with the remaining two. I had to smile though. "Yes, we are free." I said softly, in response to the guard's interrupted command.

We jogged down the corridor and burst out into the parking garage just as a dark van screeched up. "Get in!" A voice roared. It was a familiar voice too.

The three of us scrambled into the van and Sark slammed the door shut as the van roared off again. "Dad?" I asked.

"Hi, honey." He said from the wheel.

I turned to Sark, curious for some answers – like how him and my father were in the same space but weren't trying to kill each other – but stopped in amazement as the woman pulled of her mask. "Mom?" I gasped.

"Hello, sweetheart." Irina said.

Bloody hell.


	14. Ireland

Author's Note: Sorry this has taken so long guys, but it's that dreaded time of year again...exam time. So I might not get the next chap up very quickly either. Sorry!

Cheeky.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:**

I stared at my mother, a million questions running through my head. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I would have thought that was obvious." Irina said dryly, yet sounding amused.

I opened my mouth, and then shut it again. "Thanks." I said, unsure of what else to say. I mean what could I say? Last time I had see my mother I had been trying to shoot her.

My mother's expression turned unreadable. "I'm always here for you, Sydney." She said.

I nodded and shifted a little, until I sat right next to Sark and my shoulder and thigh brushed his. Even now I couldn't stop the pure shot of lust that curled in my stomach. He leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. "Are you alright?"

"I'm better now." I whispered back, truthfully.

Sark smirked at me. "Of course you are. I'm here."

I hit him on the shoulder, but couldn't quite stop myself smiling. He grinned back, but before he could say anything else, the van suddenly screeched to a halt. Sark carefully opened the door and climbed out. "Come on, Syd." He said.

"Where are we going?" I asked, wondering what was going on. "A safe house?"

Sark smiled. "Even better: my house."

I carefully climbed out of the van and looked at Sark curiously. "Your house, huh?" I said.

Sark grinned and looked back towards the van. Beyond him I saw his plane – the same one we had flown to Switzerland in. "We'll see you in Ireland, Julian." My mother said.

I turned back in time to see her shut the door to the van and the van roared off again. "So you live in Ireland?" I asked Sark, following towards the plane.

"I do." Julian said. "It's very beautiful. You'll love it."

We climbed aboard and within moments the plane was in the air. As soon as we had levelled out, Sark got out of his seat and disappeared, returning for a minute with a pile of clothes. "I thought you might like to get changed." He said.

"Thanks." I said, grateful to get the chance to get out of my prison clothes. "I'll be right back."

I went to walk past him after taking the clothes, but then stopped. I looked up into Sark's amazing blue eyes and leaned forward, giving him a rough, enthusiastic and passionate kiss. "What was that for?" Sark asked breathlessly, when we pulled apart.

"Just a thank you for breaking me out of custody." I said.

"Well, if that's the thank you I get, remind me to break you out of prison more often." He laughed.

I grinned at him, before slipping past him to change my clothes. Once again, I could tell Sark had picked my outfit. A simple black skirt and white shirt, that managed to look demure and still show off my figure, and a pair of heeled boots and a leather jacket. I smiled as I put them on, but left the jacket off. I slung it over the back of my chair when I returned, noticing Sark had disappeared again.

A moment later Sark reappeared again, now dressed in black slacks and a black shirt. He slung his jacket over the back of the seats next to mine, before sitting down beside me. "It will take us about ten hours to get to Ireland." He said.

I snuggled closer to him and he responded by putting his arm around me and pulling me closer. I stayed silent for a moment, revelling in the feel of him next to me and his strong arm curling possessively around me. I rested my head against his chest. "How long was I in custody?" I asked.

"About two days." Sark answered.

"Two days?" I asked, surprised. It hadn't felt that long.

"Yes." I could hear the amusement in Sark's tone.

I rolled my eyes. "It just didn't feel that long, okay?"

I felt Sark grinning, but he said nothing. I closed my eyes briefly, suddenly tired and aware of how tense I had been. Relaxing against Sark, I felt him begin to softly stroke my hair. I smiled against his chest. My father had always done that when I was a child, and the soothing rhythm did what it had always done: it sent me off to sleep.

* * *

"Wake up, Syd." Sark's voice said in my ear. "You're missing the view."

I blinked open my sleepy eyes, and sat up. Sark smiled at me and pointed to the window. "Welcome to Ireland." He said.

I followed his hand and gazed out the window, marvelling at how green everything looked. It was an awesome view with the green of the fields and black of the cliffs. A river snaked its silvery way through the green, winding towards a small city.

"We'll be landing soon." His expression was slightly amused and faintly proud as he watched me.

"It's so beautiful." I told him.

"It is." He agreed. "I've travelled all over the world and never found anywhere as beautiful and magical as Ireland."

Sooner than I would have liked, the plane had landed and we had disembarked. At Sark's advice, I had slipped on a light sweater beneath my leather jacket, and I was suddenly grateful. I gazed around as I breathed in the cool air, watching the gilded sunlight pour from the slightly cloudy sky. Sark had been right. Standing their, even in the middle of an airport, I could feel the magic of this place.

I smiled in delight and turned to Sark. He had put his jacket on and another coat on top to protect him from the slight chill. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses, he put an arm around my shoulders. "So, do you want to go shopping first, or shall we just go home?" he asked.

I looked at him, consideringly. "Shopping?" I asked.

He laughed. "I thought so." He said. "Come on."

In a routine that was familiar to me, no matter what country I was in, Sark and I made our way through customs. I smiled when I saw my new passport. "Married, huh?" I whispered to Sark.

He grinned at me, before turning his attention to the clerk. As we walked out of the airport, I began to hear more and more of the musical Irish accent amongst the French, German and English that surrounded me. I snuggled closer to Sark, and laughed aloud. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt free. Absolutely fucking free!

As I had almost come to expect with Sark, a smooth, black and expensive car drew up in front of us. Sark opened the door for me and gestured for me to get in before following me. "Good morning, Andrew." He said.

The man in the driver's seat, Andrew, was a dark haired man with cheerful green eyes and an easy smile. He was in his late 30's and despite all his apparent humour, I could see they way he carried himself with confidence and a slight arrogance – as if he had gone up against the challenges of his life and won. And I knew anyone Sark had working for him could handle themselves in a fight.

"Mornin' Mr. Sark." Andrew said with his Irish lilt.

"Morning?" I repeated, confused.

"Aye." Andrew said from the front seat as he pulled out into the traffic. "It's almost nine in the morning, local time."

"Oh." I smiled. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." Andrew replied. "So, back home Mr. Sark?"

"No." Sark said. "It seems we're going shopping first, Andrew."

"Ah." He chuckled. "Right you are then."

Fifteen minutes later, the car was parked and we were ready to go. Sark and I got out of the car, followed by Andrew. I watched curiously as Sark dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. My eyebrows rose. It looked like a lot of money. "Sark..." I began.

He put a finger to my lips to quiet me. "It's only money, Syd." He said. "So be a good girl and go and spend it."

I arched an eyebrow at his words. "Good girl?" I asked.

He grinned. "I know. I'll pay for that one later." He reached back into his coat and pulled out a gun this time. Carefully hiding his movements, he reached around me and stuck it into the waistband of my skirt underneath my jacket. "Just in case." He whispered in my ear.

Then Sark gave me a soft, but lingering kiss. "I'm afraid this is where I leave you for now." he said, his hands still on my hips underneath my jacket. "I have a few errands to run. I'll be back in an hour or two." He raised one of his hands to stroke my cheek. "But Andrew will be with you the whole time."

I nodded, but couldn't help but feeling a little sad Sark wouldn't be coming with me. It surprised me just how fast I was getting used to him being near me...and I was also surprised to find that it didn't worry me in the slightest. "I'll be fine." I told him.

Sark grinned. "I know you will. It takes more than the CIA to stop Sydney Bristow."

I grinned back. "Particularly when I have Julian Sark on my side."

Sark lean forward slightly and gave me another soft kiss. "I'll see you soon, love."

I watched Sark walk away, his coat slightly swirling in the breeze. I could feel the silly, soft smile on my face, but didn't particularly care. For once I didn't care who saw it. I was in love and wasn't going to hide it.

I turned towards Andrew, only to find him staring at me strangely. I couldn't help but tense under his gaze that seemed to be somehow measuring me. "What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Sorry for staring, miss, but I was just wonderin' what kind o' woman had captured our Mr. Sark's heart, is all."

"And?"

"Well, I haven't seen you in action, but I'm guessing you must be pretty special."

I smiled at him. "In that case you can call me Sydney." I said. "Now, how about we do some shopping?"

He laughed. "You sound just like my wife." He said.

* * *

An hour later, Andrew and I were layered down with bags and walking down the crowded street. I stared at the windows as we past, wondering what else I needed. I think I had probably bought just about everything I could ever conceivably need for the next twenty years...but still: who could have too many shoes?

My gaze turned speculative as we passed a hairdresser. I stopped for a second, gazing at my reflection in the window. My hair was long and tangled about my shoulders. I have to say, I did like its new length, but still...I wanted a change. Something a bit neater and nicer. "Andrew..." I began.

"You want a haircut?" he asked.

I turned to him and grinned. "Why not?"

Andrew simply shook his head. "If you want one, go ahead." He said. "We have another hour before Mr. Sark will be back."

Still grinning, I pushed open the door to the shop, and heard a small bell tinkle. A curvy woman popped her head up as we walked in, a bright smile on her face. "Can I help you?" she asked in her Irish lilt.

"Yes." I said. "I feel like a change."

She laughed. "Well you've come to the right place." She said. "You're American, then?"

"Yes." I said.

"Well, what do you think of our fine country so far?" she asked.

"It's beautiful." I said, meaning it.

"That it is." She agreed. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Lily."

I couldn't help but smile at her infectious grin. "Sydney."

"Well then, Sydney. What can I do for you?"

Sitting down in the offered chair, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. "I feel like a new look." I said. "But I would prefer to keep the length if I could."

Lily gave me a considering look, her head slightly tilted to one side as she thought. Then she grinned slowly. "I think I have just the thing." She said.

"Great." I said.

* * *

"Well, what do you think?" I asked Andrew, giving him a small spin.

I already loved my new hairstyle. Gone was the practical straight cut I had had for so long. Instead my hair was gently layered around my face, and a long fringe fell over my right eye slightly, brushing across my forehead. I made me look softer, and slightly more feminine, which I thought wasn't such a bad thing.

"It's beautiful, lass." Andrew said. "Just like you."

I blushed slightly at Andrew's words, for some reason feeling slightly embarrassed by his words. "Thank you."

I paid Lily and thanked her for her help. She simply laughed and told me it was her pleasure. Slipping on a pair of newly bought sunglasses, I stepped out of the salon and into the slightly chill air outside. "Is it time to meet Julian?" I asked.

Andrew nodded. Together we strolled back to where the car was parked and I enjoyed listening to all the different accents and languages around me as I watched the other tourists shopping. Sark was waiting at the car when we got there, and I felt pleased when he looked surprised but pleased with my new appearance.

"I like your hair, Syd." He said. "It suits you."

"Thank you." I said, blushing again.

We climbed back into the car and Sark slid an arm around my waist, pulled me against him. "Did you have fun shopping?" he asked.

"I always do." I said. "But yes, thank you. I did."

I leaned against Sark, watching the scenery as it passed the window. "So where are we anyway?" I asked as we left the city behind.

"That was Galway City." Sark told me. "It's right on Galway Bay."

I nodded my head. "And where are we going?"

"My house." Sark replied cryptically.

I turned so that I could see his face. "And where exactly is your house?" I asked.

Sark looked down at me and I could the teasing glint in his eyes. "Where it's always been, I guess."

Sark laughed at my expression. "It's high on the cliffs, just past a little village called Spiddal." He told me.

"Nice." I said. "I've always wanted to live on a cliff."

"Well, now's your chance." Sark said, kissing the top of my head in a tender gesture.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence, with me marvelling once again at just how complex Julian actually was. He showed the world such a cold, business-like persona, but when he was with me he was so different. I sighed softly, leaning against him once more and gazing out my window as we climbed the cliffs.

The grey-blue ocean pounded the cliffs relentlessly, the rhythmic crashing soothing me as did Sark presence. For some reason, I always felt so calm and at peace when I was with Sark...or maybe I did know the reason. I never had to pretend with Sark. I could say anything that came into my head and he wouldn't find it strange. And that was something I treasured dearly.

I sat up with a start, surprised out of my comfortable doze as we pulled up towards a large stone house on the top of the cliff. The place was huge, and if we had been in England I would have called it a manor. "This is your house?" I asked.

"Yes." Sark replied.

"It's _huge_." I told him. "House just doesn't seem to be the right word for it!"

Sark laughed. "Wait til you see what's inside."

I turned and looked at him, excited by the prospect. I felt almost as if I was a little girl again. I grinned. "Come on, then!"

I half dragged Sark out the car as soon as it was stopped, and almost ran towards the house, Sark laughter following me all the way. The door opened as we neared, to reveal a pretty woman about Andrew's age with long dark red hair and wide green eyes. She looked at the scene before her with a look of astonishment, and I can't say that I blamed her.

I skidded to a halt and tried to appear more civilised and lady-like. "Hello, Shannon." Sark greeted. "I'd like you to meet Sydney. She'll be staying with us for a while."

Shannon looked at me with undisguised curiosity. "Welcome to Ireland, Sydney." She said warmly. "Andrew, bring the bags inside."

She disappeared back inside, and I followed her, a little more slowly this time. I shot Sark a glance as I did, and noticed the amused look on his face. He smiled at me. "Don't think you have to behave if you don't want to." He said softly.

I grinned back at him. "Maybe later." I said.

The parlour was tasteful, simple and elegant...just like I had expected it to be. I knew that Sark preferred things to be that way when it came to belongings. "Would you like a tour?" Sark asked me.

"Yes, please." I replied, eager to see more of Sark's home.

He smiled in return and took my hand. The house was beautiful, with its comfortable and elegant furniture and windows that overlooked the ocean. Towards the back of the house was a well stocked gym that had me eager to start training again. There was also a large pair of metal doors in the corner that I guessed lead to the armoury.

Sark turned to me. "So, what so you think?" he asked.

Strangely, his expression was faintly venerable – as if my opinion meant a lot to him. "I love it." I said. "Just like I love you."

Sark looked strangely humble at my words. "I love you too, Syd."

Leaning forward, Sark gave me a deep and lingering kiss that left my knees weak and my toes tingling. When we pulled apart, he reached up and gently brushed my hair away from my face. He sighed softly. "I'd better show you to your room. Shannon will probably have lunch ready by now."

"Food sounds good, forget the room. Is Shannon your housekeeper?" I asked curiously.

"Yes." Sark said, taking my hand and leading me towards the kitchen. "She's Andrew's wife, and between the two of them they look after the house when I'm not here."

The kitchen was a bright room that let in the light from the garden beyond. In the garden, I caught a glimpse of some rose bushes and a neat herb garden. I took a seat opposite Sark at the large wooden table. I glanced up as Shannon placed a bowl of stew in front of Sark and me, and a large loaf of crusty bread between us. "That's a beautiful garden." I told her.

"Thank you." She said softly. "I do what I can."

"Don't listen to her." Andrew said as he came into the kitchen. "She spends every spare moment in it."

"Oh, hush Andrew." Shannon said. "Leave them be."

I watched as Shannon efficiently bustled around the kitchen, preparing food even as she stopped her husband pinching it. "Out with you, Andrew." She said after a moment. "We'd best leave them in peace to eat."

Before I could react and tell them they didn't have to leave, Shannon had bustled her husband out of the kitchen and followed him. "She's something, isn't she?" Sark said.

"Yes, she is." I said.

Sark and I talked about the house and Ireland for a while, finishing a simply delicious meal. I had to remember to compliment Shannon on it the next time I saw her. After I had eaten absolutely everything I could without exploding, I pushed my plate away and leaned back in my chair. "That was good." I said.

Sark sighed contentedly. "I agree."

I looked at Sark. "I've been meaning to ask you, but when is my mother getting here?"

"Later this evening, would be my guess." Sark said. "And your father's coming too."

"Dad is coming?" I asked, surprised. "With mom?"

Sark flashed me an amused half-smile. "Yes, they are." He said.

"Well, this should make things interesting." I muttered.

Sark chuckled at my words. "Definitely."

Sark sighed again, before getting up. "I'm sorry Syd, but I have some business to take care of." Leaning over Sark gave me a brief kiss. "Shall I come and find you when I've finished?"

"Yes." I said, frowning slightly. It seems reality was about to intrude once more. "Reality sucks." I mumbled, watching Sark leave.

I got up from the table, just as Shannon came bustling back in. "Mr. Sark's off to do business, then?" she asked.

"It seems like it." I told her.

She smiled, although it was somewhat shyly. "Good. I should show you where your room is." She said. "And I also wanted a moment to ask you a million questions." She shot me a glance. "That is, if you don't mind."

I smiled, touched and amused that both Shannon and Andrew were so protective of Sark. "I don't mind." I told her.

Shannon smiled. "Good."

Together we walked upstairs, and I soon found myself standing in a room overlooking the stormy sea. There was a lovely old dresser in the corner, a window seat under the window and a four poster bed in the middle of the room. The room itself was decorated in soft blues and it seemed a little feminine for Sark's taste. And, as if guessing my thoughts, Shannon said. "Sark's mother decorated the room."

"It's lovely." I said.

"All you clothes are in the laundry at the moment." Shannon said. "I thought I'd give them a wash for you. You'll have them before morning."

"Thank you, Shannon." I smiled at her.

Suddenly, Shannon sat down on the bed and bit her lip. "Forgive me if this sounds abrupt, but do you love him?" she asked.

I was a little surprised by the bluntness of the question...but I knew that it had been coming. I was quickly learning that Shannon and Andrew cared a lot for Sark. "Yes." I said truthfully. "Like I've never loved anyone before."

"Good." She said. "Because he's had so much pain in his life already, I'd hate for him to get hurt again."

The sudden steel in Shannon's voice surprised me – although it shouldn't have. I laughed in surprise. "Bloody hell." I said. "What does Sark do, recruit out of the SAS?"

Shannon laughed, delighted and surprised by my comment. "No, although I wouldn't put it past him." She told me. "Both Andrew and I are ex-military."

I shook my head. "I'm starting to feel outclassed here."

Shannon raised an eyebrow at that. "Somehow I don't think so. I've seen some of those bruises you gave Mr. Sark." She grinned. "Not even Andrew can land one on him that often."

"Oh?"

Shannon winked at me. "If you can beat Mr. Sark in a fight, Sydney, I will thank my lucky stars you're on our side."

I laughed. "I think that's one of the nicest compliments anyone has ever given me." I said.

That was how Sark found us an hour later. The two of us were sprawled on the bed, sharing a box of chocolates that Shannon had produced from somewhere, and chatting animatedly. "I see you're settling in rather well, Syd." He said, grinning at the sight.

I grinned back at him, before eating another chocolate. "Absolutely." I told him. "Besides, who else am I going to gossip with?"

Shannon laughed. "Well, I'd better get back to work." She said as she got up. "I'll see you later, Syd."

"See you, Shan." I replied.

Sark shook his head as Shannon shut the bedroom door behind her. "How do you do that, Syd?" he asked. "The two of you were strangers an hour ago."

I shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just friendly I guess."

Suddenly, Sark looked at me with a smirk. "Feel like some exercise?" he asked.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, suspiciously.

"You. Me. The training room."

"You want me to kick your ass?" I asked.

"No, I want you to see if you can. I'm not that easy to beat, Syd." Sark said.

"We'll just see about that." I said as I got off the bed. "You're on, Sark."


	15. New Faces and New Shocks

**Part Fifteen:**

Fifteen minutes later, I stood in the middle of the training room dressed in sweats and sparring pads. After all, I didn't want to hurt Sark too bad. Challenge sparking in his eyes, Sark stood opposite me, similarly dressed and padded. I had smiled in amusement when I saw that even Sark's sweats were black. I must say, he really did seem to like the colour.

I, myself, was dressed in grey sweat pants and a white singlet. And, for some weird reason, I was wishing I was dressed in all black too. I think Sark's taste in clothes must be getting to me. Shrugging it off, I raised an eyebrow. "Rules?"

Sark considered it for a minute. "No broken bones and the first one thrown to the mat looses." He said.

"That's fine with me." I replied. "Ready?"

"Ready." Sark confirmed.

And then the fight was on. Sark began circling, surprisingly cautious, but there was a gleam in his eye that I didn't trust. He was up to something. I began to move, too, keeping Sark just beyond kicking range, my mind calculating weaknesses and formulating strategy. I was going to need every advantage I could get.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming my mind and readying my muscles. Focusing, I smiled as I moved, anticipation and adrenaline flooding through my body. Finally, I growled, running out of patience. Sark had always been more patient than me.

I snapped out a roundhouse kick, aiming for Sark's head and knowing he would block it. He did, retaliating with a punch kick combination. I dodged and blocked, punching him in return. Attack. Block. Attack again. This went on for a few minutes, Sark and I both evenly matched. But then we always had been.

Feeling myself becoming tired, and wanting to knock that smirk off Sark's face, I increased the intensity. Sark met me blow for blow. My breath came out in pants and I felt sweat trailing stickily down my back. Growling, I struck out in a series of frenzied blows, the adrenaline riding through me.

Sark blocked, but there was a fraction of hesitation after my last blow, almost as if Sark was catching his breath. I felt a smile curve my lips as I used it. I feigned another punch and spun, hooking my foot behind Sark's leg. Twisting my body to the left, I gave his shoulder a sharp push and Sark went down with a thud. He lay there panting for a moment, before shooting me a look.

"I win." I said simply, trying to catch my breath.

"This time." Sark added, as I reached down to help him up.

I heard a low chuckle behind me and turned, finding a tall blonde standing just inside the training room. She was dressed from head to toe in black, and there was an amused smile on her face. "You must be the infamous Sydney." She said, in an English accent.

I raised an eyebrow in slight challenge, trying to resist the urge to immediately go on the defensive. "I am." I said levelly. "How did you know?"

The smile turned into a grin. "Well, for one thing, you made it deceptively easy to beat Julian." She told me. "And, for another, anyone who can knock him off his feet must be the same woman responsible for making him turn into Mr. Grumpy and start muttering 'Bloody Sydney!'."

I gave a small laugh of surprise. "He really said that?"

"More than once." The woman walked forward, and held out a hand to me. "I'm Charlie."

I took her outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you."

Charlie shifted her gaze to where Sark was standing just behind me. "And you can stop glaring at me, Julian." She said, with a teasing note to her voice.

"I suppose you have a reason for interrupting?" he said coldly.

"Of course." Charlie said, seemingly unaffected by Sark's cold tone. "I thought you might like to know that Irina and Agent Bristow will be landing in Galway in an hour."

"Fine." Sark said. "Tell Andrew to meet them at the airport."

"Already done." Charlie replied.

I had to say I was curious about the woman in front of me. Charlie seemed very confidant and not really intimidated by Sark's coldness. "What exactly do you do?" I asked her.

"I'm what you could call Julian's...assistant. I handle all the mundane things and sort of keep things running when he and Irina are away on business."

"I see." I smiled slightly at her.

She grinned again, winking at me. "Well, I can tell when I've outstayed my welcome. It was nice to finally meet you Sydney."

Silently, I watched her turn and leave. As soon as she had left the room, I turned to Sark. "You trust her, don't you?"

Sark smiled. "Yes. Despite all the irritation she causes me. She's my half-sister."

I gaped at Sark. "Your sister?!" I asked. That was one thing I hadn't known.

"Yes." Sark said, walking forward. "I'd hoped to introduce you tomorrow, but it seemed as always, Charlie had other ideas."

Sark reached up and stroked my cheek. "I hope you understand that I wanted to give you a day or two to adjust to everything that's happened before I showed you just what Irina and I do – part of which is my sister."

"She works as an agent, then?" I asked.

"Whenever she can." Sark grinned. "She's not quite as good as you, but she's well on her way."

I nodded and smiled at Sark. "So I see."

Sark rolled his shoulders and turned away to grab a water bottle. He tossed a second one at me, which I quickly caught. I took a long drink of cool water, before wiping some of the sweat from my face with the back of my hand.

I walked towards the other side of the room, putting the bottle back on the bench from where Sark had grabbed it. Turning back to face him, I raised an eyebrow when I saw him taking off his singlet. Unable to help myself, my eyes slid over his muscular chest and arms, his skin gleaming faintly with sweat.

Sark grinned at me. "Best of three?" he asked.

I laughed. "If you want to get beaten again...sure."

Then, suddenly feeling mischievous and wanting to even the odds a little in the distraction department, I also took off my singlet, revealing the practical sports bra underneath. Tossing the top away, I arched an eyebrow. "Shall we?" I asked.

I saw Sark's eyes cloud slightly as their colour deepened. My skin tingled as his eyes trailed hotly over my bared flesh. I shivered slightly at the hunger in his eyes and not from fear. Sark's eyes returned to stare into mine. "Yes, let's."

I felt my blood begin to quicken in my veins at the implied innuendo. Suddenly, the room was thick with tension and our fight had turned into something far more than a simple contest. Primal hunger glittered in Sark's eyes, heating my blood in response. I could feel myself rising to the challenge and my lips curved into a feral smile.

We began circling each other, out movements tightly controlled and suppressed violence hovering beneath the surface. This time it was Sark who attacked first, his patience slipping. His movements were fast and furious, yet strangely fluid at the same time. I matched his speed and grace, anticipating his moves before he made them.

He snapped out a front kick, aiming for my stomach. I blocked quickly, pivoting out the way and lashing out with a backfist. Sark blocked it, less than an inch from his face. He shot me a smirk as I spun again, stepping backwards slightly. "You're not pulling your punches, Sydney." He taunted.

"No." I agreed.

His smirk widened. "Good, because neither am I."

I sent a roundhouse towards his head, my foot whipping out. He blocked, spinning as he did so. I leapt up as his foot snaked out, trying to sweep my feet out from under me. Using his momentum, Sark lashed out again in a fluid movement, catching me in the chest as my feet touched the mat. I staggered backwards, just keeping my balance.

But my guard had dropped for a second, and it was all Sark needed. His body slammed into mine, my feet swept out from under me and I crashed to the mat. Realising what was happening and unable to avoid it, I grabbed hold of Sarks arms, pulling him with me.

He landed on top of me, driving the air from my lungs. He looked at me, his chest pressed against mine. I could feel the heat radiating from him and his bare skin burned mine. Sark grabbed my hands and forced them to the mat beside me, trapping me at the same time with his legs and hips.

"It seems I win this time." He said.

My breath was still a little faster than normal, although if that was from the exercise or having Sark lying on top of me, I wasn't sure. Trying to get free, I bucked my hips and wriggled in his grip. In response, Sark eyes deepened to a dark, stormy blue. "There's a first time for everything." I told him.

Sark's mouth crashed down onto mine hungrily, just as I arched upwards, meeting his lips with my own. There was nothing gentle about the kiss, just pure, wild passion. His tongue battled mine, just as we had done moments before. My blood surged hotly through my body, just as my mind cried out _more_!

I bit Sark's bottom lip hard enough to draw blood just as I felt his grip loosen. I bucked and twisted beneath him, slamming him backwards. Suddenly our roles were reversed as it was Sark pressed into the mat and me straddling him. I sat there for a minute, looking at him, my chest heaving.

Then I bent forward and, with my eyes still on his, began to kiss the large curving scar at the bottom of his rib cage. He gave a deep groan as my tongue began to trace along it, his back slightly arching. His skin felt so good beneath my lips, and I trailed kisses all over his torso, re-learning every muscle, every curve, every scar.

Sark's hands fisted roughly in my hair, dragging my mouth back to his. His hands then trailed down my body, leaving trails of fire wherever they went. I felt Sark's erection beneath my hips and I wriggled experimentally. He gave a low, guttural groan and his hands tightened on my waist. I groaned myself as he pressed his hips towards mine.

His hands moved up to cup my breasts, the sudden heat making me gasp. I broke away, pulling back slightly. "Sark..." My voice came out in a dry rasp, and I swallowed. "Maybe we should move this to another room."

His eyes were hot as they looked at me. I had to bite my lip to stop leaning down and kissing him again, privacy be damned. "That is," I added. "If you want to finish what we've started."

Sark smirked. "What do you think?" he asked, somewhat sarcastically.

I smirked straight back at him. "I'm thinking of lots of things right now." I said. Like removing all our clothes.

We rolled easily to our feet, our movements rigidly controlled, as if a slight movement could trigger our control to break. And, considering the way I felt right now, it very well could. I looked at Sark out of the corner of my eye and had to resist the urge to slam him against the wall and rip the rest of his clothes off.

How we made it upstairs, I don't know. But suddenly I was being yanked into a room and the door slammed behind me. Sark crushed me up against the door, his mouth hard and brutal against mine. I revelled in the intense passion and lack of control we both felt. I shoved Sark backwards, barely registering this wasn't even my room, and onto the large bed.

I landed on top of him, my body pressed against his hard one. I groaned into his mouth. I ran my hands up and down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the hot skin. Sark flipped me over in a quick move, pressing me into the mattress with his weight. My hands never stopped moving over every inch of him I could find...chest, shoulders, arms, butt...

And then suddenly my bra was yanked off and I felt the shocking sensation of Sark's mouth on my breast. I arched my back, wanting to get closer and lost myself in a haze of sensation. I didn't realise when Sark removed the rest of our clothes, or the moment his icy control finally shattered. All I knew was the feel of his hands and his mouth on me, making my insane and want to scream.

When I could stand it no longer, I fisted my hands in Sark's hair and roughly dragged him up to my face. "Now, Sark." I demanded, and kissed him.

I almost did scream when Sark thrust into me, fiery sensations filling me as he did. Sark broke away, breathing hard, and stared into my eyes. And thrust again. I buried my face into the crook of Sark's neck, biting down on flesh as the sensation rolled over me. I heard his gasp and moan when I did. And then I forgot to do anything but feel...until everything exploded around me and I did finally scream.

I slowly floated back down the Earth, gradually becoming aware of my surroundings. Sark had moved over slightly, so he wasn't crushing me. I shifted slightly, trying to get closer to him, but my body wouldn't move.

Sark looked at me out of the corner of his eye, which appeared to be the only movement he was capable of. "Bloody hell." Was all he said.

I laughed softly. "You could say that."

After a long minute, I finally worked up enough energy to crawl over to curl against Sark. He gently pulled up a blanket to cover us, since it was clear we wouldn't be moving in a while. I gazed about the room, or at least the portion I could see. It was tastefully decorated in muted browns and whites, with a large desk against one wall.

I raised my head, my hair cascading over my face. I uselessly tried to push it out the way with one hand, but it didn't want to cooperate. "So," I said, looking at Sark. "This is your room, huh?"

Sark opened his eyes and looked around. "Yes." He said.

I laughed. "You weren't sure!" I said.

He smiled softly. "No, I wasn't. You seem to have an incredible knack of destroying my concentration, Bristow."

I grinned at him. "Good. It's only fair."

"Do I distract you, Sydney?"

I arched an eyebrow at him. "You already know the answer to that. But, yes, you do."

Sark reached up and pushed some of my tousled hair out of my face. He said nothing, but there was a tender look on his face that melted my heart. My eyes travelled over his face, memorising every inch of it, imprinting it on my memory so I would always remember it. As I did, my eye caught the bite mark I had left on Sark's shoulder.

I reached out and trailed a fingertip over it lightly. "Sorry." I said.

"Don't be." Sark said. "I like it."

I arched an eyebrow and looked at Sark. "It's very possessive." He added.

"Well, I feel rather possessive." I said, snuggling back down against Sark.

His arms tightened around me in response, as did mine. I don't care what the consequences are, but I am not letting Julian Sark go. If that means I will never be able to go back to my old life, then fine. I'll accept that, while it may hurt. But it would hurt far worse to never be able to hold or kiss Sark again.

Suddenly, I looked up again and grinned mischievously at Sark. "I can give you another, if you'd like."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Really."

* * *

By the time my parents arrived, Sark and I were once again dressed and able to act professionally. Although, I don't think we fooled Shannon or Andrew. At least I hadn't seen Sark's sister again. I had the feeling she didn't miss much, and I wasn't quite sure how I felt about her – yet.

Irina strolled in the door, acting as if she owned the place. Come to think of it, I'm not sure she didn't. Dad followed a few steps behind her, with Andrew bringing in the bags. "Julian." Irina said immediately. "I need to talk to you."

Sark shot me a look, before turning to Irina, amused. "Oh?" he said blandly. "What about?"

"Come." Irina said briskly, and began walking through the house.

I fell into step behind them and beside my father. We shared a look, knowing that we were just following them so we didn't miss out on the action. I knew in my gut, that if we left Sarkand Irina alone then plans would be made without us.

"How are you feeling, Sydney?" my Dad asked.

"Pretty good, considering." I told him. "I can't say that I liked the CIA locking me up like a criminal, but I understand why they did. And I wouldn't trade the reason for all the world."

"I didn't think you would." Dad said.

I looked at him in surprise. "That's what's, well, freaking me out Dad." I said. "Why aren't you trying to arrest or kill Sark...or Mom?"

My dad returned my gaze steadily for a moment. "Sydney, do you remember when I told you Michael Vaughn was never good enough for you?" he asked.

I nodded. It had been the first time I had seen my father since waking up – even if it was through prison glass. Those words had haunted me for days.

"Well, despite his seemingly questionable morals, Sark is a man, rather than a boy in a man's world." My father told me.

"Questionable morals were your only problem with him?" my voice was tinged with surprise and amusement.

My father nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he wanted to smile. "Believe it or not, yes. He is a strong, capable man who will you like a princess. As a father, that's good enough for me not to kill him." He said. "Although, if you tell him that, I'll have to shoot you."

I laughed softly. "Don't worry, he won't hear it from me."

Finally, I released the breath I didn't even realise I was holding. Tension seemed to flood from my body. I hadn't realised it before, but I had been almost scared of my father's reaction to my relationship with Sark. To know that he approved, as much as a father could, was more than a relief to me. Impulsively, I leaned over a kissed him on the cheek. "I'm glad you're here, dad." I said.

My father looked surprised at the sudden display of affection, but nodded at me. "There's nothing more important to me, than you, Sydney." He told me.

We lapsed into silence for a moment, and I wondered where Irina and Sark were leading us. We were headed up stairs, but away from the bedrooms. I looked at the two of them, their heads bowed together as they talked in hushed tones. They were up to something, I just knew it.

I shot a glance at my father out of the corner of my eye. "So, what's up with you and mom?" I asked, deceptively casual.

"Up to?" my father replied. "Nothing. We were merely concerned about our daughter."

"Yeah, sure, Dad." I said. "Is that why you haven't taken her into custody yet?"

My father opened his mouth, before shutting it again. "It didn't seem fair to do that." He said finally.

I smiled, but said nothing. I had to say I was sceptical of that, but I let dad think I believed him. There had been a time in the past where dad would have done anything to bring Irina Derevko in, but not anymore, it seemed. I just hoped he didn't get hurt again. She might have loved me and been my mother, but that didn't mean I fully trusted Irina Derevko – especially around my father.

"Just be careful, okay?" I said.

My father shot me an amused glance. "Aren't I the one who's supposed to say that?"

I didn't reply, as we had just reached a rather large room that looked as if it had once been a library. There was a large desk in the middle of the room, and two stuffed armchairs over by the empty fireplace. Books lined the walls and there was an expensive looking computer system in the corner. Maps littered the remaining wall space and desk.

I moved into the room and came to stand near Sark and mom. "So, what is it?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

Sark looked pointedly at Irina, as if telling her to tell me what was going on. She nodded slightly at him. "I have some new information that affects you, Sydney." She said carefully. She glanced at Sark. "Where is your sister?"

"Sister?" At Irina's question, my dad looked surprised.

"Yes, it appears Julian has a half-sister." I said, my tone amused. "Her name's Charlie."

"That it is." Said a voice from behind me.

Charlie walked into the room, still dressed in her black outfit. It must be genetic or something. She nodded at Sark and Irina. "Welcome back Irina." She said.

Then she turned to my father. "And you must be the infamous Jack Bristow." She said.

"I am." Dad said flatly, not offering anything.

"Charlene Reilly." She said, offering her hand. "Julian and I share the same mother."

My father took her hand and gave it a shake, but there was wariness still in his eyes. I couldn't say I blamed him. No one knew anything about this woman, other than both Sark and Irina trusted her. "And your father?"

"Tomas Reilly." She said. "Businessman, not spy. He knew nothing of this life, or that his wife was ex-KGB. He died when I was 16."

"Now that introductions have been made, shall we get back to the matter at hand?" Sark asked mildly.

"And that is?" I asked.

Irina gestured for everyone to take a seat at the table. We did, and it was only after we were seated that my mother began to explain. "I have recently found out some more information about Sydney." She said. "Or more specifically, the prophecy."

"The prophecy." I said. "You don't still believe that it's true, do you?"

"I have no reason to believe it's false." Irina said. "But regardless of that, there are many in this world who do believe it is true." She paused for a second before continuing. "My sources tell me that Sloane has begun to put together another of Rambaldi's devices."

"What does it do?" Charlie asked.

"I think it's the big one." Irina said. "His greatest work."

"_This woman here depicted will posses unseen marks. Signs that she will be the one to bring forth my works. Bind them with fury, a burning anger that unless prevented, at vulgar cost this woman will render the greatest power into utter desolation_." I recited.

Those words had had such an impact on my life, I think they were tattooed on my brain. I looked at anguish at Sark. "And I help him build it." I added softly. "That was what I was doing with the Covenant."

Sark leaned over and took my hand. "You couldn't have known, Syd." He said.

"It doesn't matter how Sloane got the pieces of the device." Irina said. "He would have gotten them anyway. What matters is what it does."

"And what is that?" my father asked levelly.

"I believe it is a device that with grant the user all the knowledge of Rambaldi." Irina said.

"Rambaldi's knowledge?" I asked. "How is that possible?"

Irina smiled, but is without humour. "I believe Sloane is going to..."download" it into his own mind."

Shit. Just what the world needed: Sloane with the knowledge of Rambaldi in his head.


	16. A Party and a Proposal

Author's Note: Yay! Exams are over! Thank goodness. I went on a holiday for a few days, so sorry this took so long…and I know I'm really lazy, okay?

Cheeky.

* * *

**Part Sixteen**

"So what are we going to do?" Charlie asked.

Irina placed a laptop on the table from where it had been resting at her feet. She typed for a second, before turning it around to face the rest of us. "The man in the photo is Paul Cocannon." She said. "He is one of the Rambaldi experts that helped build the device in Sloane's possession. He is the only man apart from Sloane himself who knows where it is."

"He will be attending a party in London tomorrow night." Sark continued what I could only call a mission briefing. "Irina has arranged for an invitation."

"And he's just going to tell us what we want?" I asked skeptically.

Sark smiled. "Not quite."

"Then how do you propose to get the information?" my father asked.

"We're simply going to bug his office." Sark said, smirking a little.

"Won't he monitor that sort of thing?" Charlie asked.

Sark grinned. "Yes, but we managed to steal one of Marshall's bugs while we were breaking Sydney out." He said. "And I have to say that Marshall Flinkman is quite the genius."

"Yeah, he is." I agreed. "So who's going?"

"You and Julian." Irina said. "Charlie will be running technical support."

"Are you sure that's wise?" dad asked.

Irina looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think Sydney can handle it?" she asked mildly.

"Of course she can handle it." My father said. "But the CIA are looking for her."

My father's automatic faith in my abilities warmed my heart. Sark must have noticed something one my face, because he grinned at me before leaning over. "They'll be at it for hours now." he whispered, meaning the argument my parents were now having. "Do you want to come?"

"Yes." I nodded. "I need to do this. And I'm sure we can avoid the CIA." I smiled at him.

"I'm sure we can." Sark agreed.

Sark looked across the table at Charlie. "Are you ready?"

"Always." Charlie grinned back, just as my parents finished arguing.

I looked at the almost identical looks of stubbornness on their faces, and knew that had only paused for now. So I broke in. "I'm going." I said.

"Are you sure, Sydney?" my father asked, concerned.

"Yes." I told him. "I have to do this."

He nodded. "Just be careful."

"I will."

* * *

I couldn't help by smile as Sark helped me out of the BMW. It was nice for once, not to have to sneak in like I usually had too – we had an invitation this time. It also felt good not to have to wear a disguise either. Sark and I had decided that it wasn't worth it anyway. If anyone recognised me, which was unlikely, that would probably also have heard of my escape from CIA custody.

Sark smiled at me, looking downright gorgeous in a black suit and shirt. Armani, no doubt. I wore black as well, in the form of a long black dress. It was made of this gorgeous flowing material that hugged my waist and fell straight down from my hips. I wore a simple pair of stilettos on my feet and my hair in a simple knot. Sark had given me a pair of long but simple diamond earrings that evening and I wore them too.

Sark offered me his arm as I climbed out of the car. I felt great as I climbed out of the car, my skirts whispering around my legs. For once, I felt completely free just being me. I didn't need a disguise. I think some of that was because of Sark – he had this way of looking at me that made me believe I could do anything. I know that probably a cliché but it was true. It also helped that I had spent so long as Julia Thorne. Nothing like being forced to be someone else to appreciate who you are.

Sark and I strolled casually into the large house where the party was being held. I noticed the rich carpets and marble in the entrance hall and the vases of lilies decorating the tables. Definitely a wealthy home. We continued inside to the ballroom, which was decorated with many linen covered tables and a dance floor. I had to smile when I saw the music wasn't being played by the usual string quartet – but by a full big band complete with crooning singer.

But the music was lovely, so I didn't dwell on it. Sark grabbed two flutes of champagne off a nearby waiter and handed me a glass. "To an interesting evening." He toasted, gently tapping my glass with his.

I smiled. "To an interesting evening." I echoed.

I sipped my champagne as my eyes turned and scanned the room. I smiled slightly, as my ruby ring caught the light. True to what Sark had once said, I wore it so that no matter what, he would always know who I was. Sark caught me smiling, and smiled back. Then he took my hand and guided me towards the rest of the ballroom.

We strolled around for a while, exchanging greeting with the other guests, before finding a moment to slip away towards the office where the meeting would later be held. It was deceptively easy to plant the bug, despite the cameras we knew where watching. Acting like lovers seeking a moment alone, Sark and I made out, hiding Sark quick tap that placed the bug under the desk.

Just as I began to feel like I was drowning, despite Sark arms holding my upright, Sark's phone rang. He broke away and answered. "Yes?" he asked, sounding irritated.

He laughed at something the person on the other end said, before hanging up. "Maybe we should finish this later." He said.

"I'll hold you to that." I said, as we made our way back towards the ballroom.

As soon as we were out of the office, I turned to Sark. "Who was that?" I asked.

"Charlie." He said. "He told me to keep my mind on business."

I laughed. "That sounds like her."

We took a seat at one of the tables around the edges of the room and I continued to watch the crowd. "Any sign of Cocannon?" I asked.

"No." Sark replied. "I doubt he will be here for a while."

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow.

Sark smiled at me again. "I believe he's rather shy."

I grinned at that – it seemed funny that one of the men that could change the face of the world was shy. Sark winked at me. "So we might as well enjoy ourselves for a little while."

"What did you have in mind?" I asked him.

"May I have this dance?" he asked with great formality, rising and offering me his hand.

"You may." I answered in the same solemn tone, before spoiling it with a large grin.

He smiled in return, before spinning me onto the dance floor, just as the band began to play a version of "Sway". Sark stepped up, as smooth as always, and grabbed my lightly around the waist, moving to the music. I followed suit, enjoying the treasured feeling of being in Sark's arms and the beat of the music around us. Sark spun me again, and my skirt flared out around my legs.

I stared into Sark's eyes, the blue mesmerising and forgot about everything else. The other people, the mission, where I was. There was just Sark and the music. I felt like I was floating on a cloud above everything…and wondered if this was what people meant when they said they were walking on air.

The music beat around us as we spun around the floor, our eyes turning hot as they inevitably did. It was a surprise when the music ended, but the quiet applause was almost shocking. Sark and I came back to ourselves to see that many of the other dancers on the floor had made room for us and were applauding.

I blushed and laughed, shooting a look at Sark. He smiled back and nodded at some of the other guests. The song changed to a slower song, and the couples resumed dancing, Sark and I included. I bit my lip. "What was all that about?" I asked.

Sark shot me an amused glance. "I imagine they enjoyed the dance." He said.

"We must have been quite a show."

"We must have." Sark agreed. "Particularly considering two of our old friends appeared very disgusted at the sight."

At his words, I tensed. I knew he meant the CIA were here by his tone and his words. "Who's here?" I asked.

"Agents Vaughn and Reed it appears."

Sark gently spun me around so I was facing in the direction he had been. "On the right." He said softly.

I glanced towards the right and saw them. Vaughn was almost unmistakable from all the mission we had been on together, and I recognised Lauren beside him. She was wearing heavy makeup and a red wig, but it was her. Both were staring at Sark and I with looks of surprise, disgust and incredulity on their faces.

"What should we do about them?" I asked.

Sark smiled. "Make sure they don't catch us." He said.

"They couldn't catch us, even in their dreams." I muttered back, laying my cheek against Sark's shoulder.

"A bit confident, are we?" Sark asked mildly.

"Yes." I agreed. "I won't let them ruin it."

"They never can, Syd." Sark whispered in my ear. "I'll always love you. They can't change that."

I looked up at his soft words and gave him what I have to admit was a rather teary smile. "I'll always love you too, Julian." I told him.

I leaned forward and gently brushed my lips to Sark's, just as the song ended around us. The kiss was slow and full of tenderness. We broke apart with embarrassed smiles when someone wolf-whistled.

Gently, Sark took my arm and led me off the dance floor. "Perhaps we should return to our seats?" he asked.

I smiled, both amused and embarrassed. "I think that might be a good idea."

We sat back down at the table we had used before, and I glanced over the crowd. Vaughn and Lauren were nowhere to be seen. And instead of worrying me, it made me smile in anticipation. Avoiding the CIA just added another challenge to the evening.

"Ah, perfect timing." Sark said. "It seems Mr. Cocannon has decided to finally put in an appearance."

I nodded, watching Cocannon move through the room. "Any sign of the Vaughn's?" I asked.

"Not yet." Sark replied.

Then he took out his phone for a second. He quickly dialled a number. "Ready?" he asked.

He smiled at Charlie's response, whatever it was. "Good. We'll leave you to it."

Hanging up the phone, Sark turned back to me. "It seems we've done what we came to do. Charlie can handle the rest. What do you say I take you out for a late dinner?"

"Sounds good." I said. "This party was getting kind of boring anyway."

Sark chuckled softly and put a hand around my waist. "Then what are we waiting for?"

I grinned at him and leant over to give him a brief kiss. Before I could reply, I felt him stiffen. Turning, I saw the reason why. Vaughn and Lauren stood in front of us, a combination of determination, disgust and fear in their expressions.

"Sydney." Vaughn said. "What are you doing here?"

I stayed close to Sark, unsure of what Vaughn was doing. I kept my face bland. "I would have thought that was obvious: attending a party." I told him.

"With him?" He asked disgustedly.

"If you mean Julian, then yes."

"I have to take you into custody." Vaughn continued. "By the order of the US government."

I gave him a look of stubbornness and disgust. He would try to be a boy scout, wouldn't he? "Thank you, but no. I'm quite happy where I am."

"Syd…" Vaughn stepped forward and grabbed my arm.

"I believe you heard her." Sark said coldly.

Vaughn glared at Sark. "No one asked you." Then he grinned somewhat nastily. "But then you'll be going with her too."

"I will have to decline as well." Sark said. "Now, you'll have to excuse us. It was so nice to see you again."

I raised an eyebrow slightly at Sark's cold tone that belied the mildness of the words. I could feel the tense muscles of his arm, and knew he was struggling not to hit Vaughn.

"I'm sorry." Vaughn said to me, before swinging at Sark.

But Sark was ready for him. He blocked easily and swung himself, punching Vaughn so hard that Vaughn staggered backwards and fell. Many of the guests turned and stared at the commotion. "I'll have to ask you to leave Sydney alone." He said calmly, despite all the stares. "She doesn't concern you anymore."

I waited until we had reached the door to the house, before I burst into a grin. "My hero." I said in a high voice, and battered my eye lashes at Sark.

My comment made Sark smile, and he lost some of the angry look in his eyes. "I prefer knight-in-shining-armour actually." He replied as the valet brought his car around.

"Well, Sir Julian." I said. "I am very grateful to you for rescuing me."

It was just then that the valet pulled up in Sark's BMW. Sark opened the passenger door for me, and looked at me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Your carriage awaits, my lady." He said.

I laughed as I got into the car. It was then that Vaughn and Lauren burst through the door. I looked at their annoyed and frustrated faces and couldn't resist. As Sark and I roared off, I blew Vaughn a kiss and waved in farewell. I knew I'd have to face him again soon, but right now I was happy where I was, and it was about time he realised that.

"Do you still want some dinner?" Sark asked.

I glanced at him. "How about buying me an ice-cream?"

Sark laughed. "Whatever you want." He told me.

An hour later, I was wrapped in Sark's jacket and his arms as we strolled along the Thames, an ice-cream in my hand. Sark and I had ended up driving around for a while, both to see if anyone was trailing us and to find an open ice-cream parlour. But we'd found one in the end.

"Want some?" I asked, offering Sark a spoon of my ice-cream.

"I wouldn't mind." He said, taking the bite. "Very nice." He added when he swallowed.

I smiled and went back to eating. It didn't take me long to finish. But then I did really, really like ice-cream. I mean who didn't? Sark and I strolled for a while longer in silence, and I felt perfectly content.

"Would you be upset if you could never go back to the CIA?" Sark asked suddenly.

I looked at him and saw the serious expression on his face. My answer seemed to mean a lot to him. I considered it for a while. "A little." I said, knowing I would be. "I'd miss Marshall and Dixon and Weiss. But, I figure everything else could be replaced."

I paused for a moment, really thinking about the possibilities. "I mean, I could come and work for you and mom. Take down the bad guys that way. And I'd still have you, so it wouldn't matter."

Sark looked at me for a long moment. "I really love you Bristow." He said, before leaning forward and giving me a long passionate kiss. Coffee ice-cream never tasted so good.

"Me too." I replied, and couldn't stop the large grin that covered my face.

Sark looked at me again, a slight frown on his face. "What's going through your head to put that look on your face?" he asked.

"That I _really_ like the taste of coffee ice-cream." I said, before laughing at his expression.

My laughter was interrupted by the ringing of Sark's phone. I fished it out of his jacket pocket, and offered it to him. Sark motioned for me to answer it. So I did.

"Hello?" I said.

"Sydney?" Charlie's voice asked.

I smiled. "Hey Charlie." I greeted.

"Hi. Where's Sark?"

"Right next to me, why?"

"Oh, just wondering. I just called to let you know that I got everything that we need. And that your CIA friends were awful pissed when the missed you." Charlie said.

I laughed. "I'll just bet they were. Thanks, Charlie."

"No problem. See you back in Ireland."

"See you." I said, before hanging up.

"Your sister." I said to Sark, before he could ask. "She says she has everything we need."

"Good." Sark answered.

I shivered slightly, despite Sark's jacket and his arms. "Aren't you cold?" I asked.

"Only a little." He said.

We stopped for a moment to watch the water, which somehow managed to look less murky and grimy in the dark. I leaned back against Sark and thanked whoever it was that had brought Julian Sark into my life. He truly was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

"Syd," Sark began softly, before trailing off.

I turned in his arms, so I could look at his face. "Yes, Julian?"

He looked at me, a vulnerable but determined look in his eyes. "There's something I have to ask you before anything else happens."

"What is it?" I asked softly.

Sark pulled something out of his pocket. "Sydney Anne Bristow, will you marry me?" Sark opened the box, to reveal one of the most beautiful rings I had ever seen.

I looked at the ring and then back at Sark, completely speechless. The ring was a simple gold band with two hands holding a diamond shaped like a heart and above it was a small gold crown. "It's a Claddagh ring. Very Irish." He said. "It symbolises eternal love and friendship."

I looked up at Sark again, tears in my eyes. "Julian, it's beautiful." I said. "And yes. Yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

Sark slipped the ring on my finger, and then I laughed as he swung me around. "No matter what happens Syd, you have my promise I will love you forever." He said, before crushing me two him and kissing me.

The kiss melted my bones and turned my mind to mush. I floated on sensation and love and didn't care. The kiss was filled with tenderness and passion and love, just like Julian. We broke apart and I couldn't stop the dopey grin that spread on my face. Neither, it seemed could Sark. "I love you Julian." I said.

"I love you too, Syd." Then he sighed. "Our only problem now, of course, is how to break this to your father without me being shot on sight."

I chuckled. "Oh, somehow I don't think dad will shoot you. He actually kind of likes you."

Sark looked at me. "Are we talking about the same Jack Bristow?"

I took his hand and entwined our fingers. "Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

"I guess you're right." He sighed.

"Besides," I added. "I won't let him shoot you. So you'll live through it."

"One can only hope." Sark muttered, making me laugh.


	17. An Old Face

**Chapter Seventeen**

The streets of London streamed past the windows of Sark's black BMW, as we drove through the city. Sark and I were back in the car, driving towards the airport. I grinned again as I caught the flash of my new ring on my finger. My engagement ring. I was going to marry the man I loved. And I couldn't help but feel giddy at the whole idea.

Sark's phone rang, breaking into my mushy thoughts. As I still wore his jacket, I fished it out and answered. "Hello?"

"Sydney?" asked my mother, by way of greeting.

"Hi, mom." I said. "Anything wrong?"

"No." Irina replied. "Are you at the airport yet?"

"Not yet." I replied. "We're still on our way."

"Good." Irina sounded pleased. "Because I have a favour to ask of you, Sydney."

I raised an eyebrow in curiosity, even though she couldn't see it. "What do you need?"

"I want you to bring Will Tippin back to Ireland with you." Irina said. "He has some important information about Rambaldi and the Covenant…and I think the Covenant is after him."

"Do you have an address?"

"10 James Street, London." Irina told me.

"We'll bring him in." I replied. "See you in Ireland."

Sark glanced at me as I hung up the phone. "What was that about?"

"My mother would like us to bring Will back with us."

Sark nodded. "He's a good agent." He said softly. "So where are we heading?"

"10 James Street." I told him.

Number 10, James Street, London was a rather small, modest house in a reasonable suburb. Just the sort of place the CIA would set up an operative. I got out the car, suddenly nervous. This would be the first time I had seen Will in over two years. Taking a deep breath, I walked straight up to the front door and knocked.

There was a moment of nervous silence as I waited for Will to answer. Sark was a comforting presence just behind me. I reached behind me for his hand, slipping my fingers between his. It seemed like eternity before Will finally answered the door.

He looked as rumpled as I remembered. He wore a pair of grey sweat pants and nothing else. His chest held a few more scars than I remembered and there was more muscle tone as well. Will blinked sleepy eyes at me in astonishment as he ran a hand through his scruffy blonde hair. "Syd?" he said, as if unable to believe it.

"Hi, Will." I said. "It's so good to see you."

Embarrassed I felt tears begin to gather in my eyes. Despite what everyone had told me, it was a relief to see Will standing alive in front of me. Last time I had seen him, he had been bleeding and as pale as death.

"Sydney? Is it really you?" Will asked.

"Yeah, it's me." I replied.

Suddenly, Will crushed me to him in a fierce hug, which I returned just as hard. "Oh my God, it's good to see you again." He whispered into my hair.

"It's good to see you again, too." I whispered back.

He left me go after a minute, his eyes glancing at the man behind me. "Hello, Julian." He greeted, not friendly, but not hostile either.

"Will." Sark returned, his tone calm.

He took a step back and looked at us. "You'd better come in."

"Thanks." I said, following him into the dark house.

Just like Will, the house was messy and chaotic, but with a strange sense of organisation. It always amazed me how Will always felt at home in mess. "So how are you?" I asked as I found a seat on the old couch.

"Good enough. You?"

"Good." I replied.

We sat for a minute in silence, Julian beside me and Will opposite us. "So why are you here?" Will finally asked bluntly. "I was under the impression that the CIA didn't know about Julian."

"They don't." I said. "It's a long story."

Julian looked levelly at Will. "We want to ask you to come to Ireland with us. To help us finally take down the Covenant." He said. "But I should warn you that we are both wanted by the CIA and this would be against them, for the most part."

"For the most part?" Will asked.

I answered him truthfully. "Only Dixon knows that Julian is really working for the CIA and I'm his new handler. The rest of the CIA believes I've committed treason and murder."

Will looked at me in astonishment, before giving a soft chuckle. He looked straight at Sark. "You broke her out, didn't you?"

"Yes." Julian said, his tone friendly, which surprised me no end. "I did."

It seemed Sark and Will were friendlier than I thought. And there was a lot more to the relationship than just handler and agent.

"And?" Will asked.

"She remembers." Sark replied.

I looked at the two of them, a slight frown on my face. "Would you two mind telling me what you are talking about?" I asked coolly.

"I told Will that you didn't remember. And he read the CIA report." Sark said.

"You could say we developed a kind of friendship." Will said. "Despite everything in the past."

I shook my head in astonishment. "Well, that I didn't expect." I said. "So are you willing to come to Ireland?"

"Of course." Will said. "You know I'd do anything to help you, Syd."

The quiet surprise in his voice, as if he didn't think I would ever doubt his coming to help me, humbled me. Will was willing to risk everything, once again, for me. I smiled at him, before walking over and giving him another hug. "Thank you, Will."

"No problem." He said. "Give me a moment to change and pack?"

"Of course." I replied, as he got up and left the room.

I turned to Sark. "So you and Will are friends?" I asked.

Sark looked back at me. "Will is a giving and stubborn man. He refuses to let this world corrupt him. I can't help but respect that. And slowly, that respect has become friendship and trust. So, yes, I suppose you could call him a friend. One of few."

I smiled, happy that two of the most important men in my life respected and trusted each other. It made me glad to realise that I wasn't going to have to fight so hard to get my family and friends to accept Sark in my life.

"Well, you are kind of lovable in a sociopathic way." Will said from the doorway.

I looked over at him in surprise, just as Sark told him, "So are you."

He laughed and hefted a small duffle bag. "I was already packed." He explained.

Will had thrown on a sweater and T-shirt, and shoved his feet into boots. Grabbing a long coat from the back of a chair, he put it on and looked at us. "Let's go." He said.

* * *

The next morning found us all in Ireland, sitting at the large dining table in Sark's house. Sark and I had explained everything to Will on the plane, from my waking up in Hong Kong, to meeting everyone in Ireland. He had quietly accepted all the information, nodding thoughtfully at times. His quiet acceptance and understanding made me grateful to have him in my life. Will really was special.

"So what's the plan for today?" Will asked, tucking into a large plate of bacon and eggs as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

I just watched him eat with a mild revulsion, before taking another bite of my fruit salad. How anyone could face all that grease in the morning, I never knew. Sark was the same, busy eating his way through a plate of bacon and eggs too. "Plan, I guess, and wait for everyone else to wake up."

"Well, I'm up." Charlie said, walking through the door, a cup of coffee in hand.

She glanced at Will in surprise, before her lips curved into a smile. "Hello." She said. "Who are you?"

Will looked up, and I could see his surprise at the woman standing in front of him. Charlie was wearing sweats and looked as if she had been busy in the gym earlier this morning. "Will." He told her.

Will shot Sark a glance. "You never said you had a sister." He said.

"Half-sister." Sark corrected. "And you never asked."

Charlie looked at me amused. I smiled back. "Will's an old friend of mine." I said. "He also works for the CIA."

Charlie nodded, sitting down opposite Will. "Well, Will. It's nice to meet you." Her lips quirked in an amused smile. "My name's Charlie."

Will nodded, still eating. "Hi." He greeted.

It was at that moment both my parents decided to enter. They were once again arguing, but it didn't sound too heated this time. "Hi dad." I greeted. "Hi mom."

"That's her mother?" Will said as he and Sark shared an amused glance.

"Yes, that's Irina." Sark agreed.

Will turned back to my parents to find Irina staring at him in curiosity and amusement. "Hello Sydney." She greeted briefly, before turning back to him. "So you're Will Tippin."

"Yes I am." Will told her levelly.

"Morning, honey." Dad said softly, kissing my cheek as he sat down beside me.

I smiled at him. "How are you?" I asked.

"Surprisingly good, considering I was alone with your mother for the first time in over 20 years." He said.

"Anything I need to worry about?" I asked.

"No. She's still alive and likely to stay that way." He said.

I chuckled at his words. "Good." I said. "I'd hate to have to spend the morning trying to hide a body."

My father grinned back at me. "I know what you mean."

I turned back to the others, and found my mother staring at me and my father with a frown on her face. "Have you two quite finished?" she asked coolly.

"For now." my father grinned.

Beside me, Sark chuckled softly. It seemed like family life was about as normal as it got around here. "So, what's next?" I asked, breaking the silence that had fallen.

"We've located Arvin Sloane and the machine he has built to procure the knowledge of Rambaldi. I believe if we strike now, we can get rid of all the major heads of the Covenant, leaving it weakened, if not collapsed." Irina said.

"Well, that's blunt enough." Charlie said. "So, what's the plan?"

Irina smiled softly. "Sydney, you and Sark will head to Sloane's villa in Tuscany, along with Will and Charlie. Together, you bring in Sloane and Lindsay." She said. "Your father and I will deal with Cocannon and Mr. Joseph Rhys."

"Infiltration and capture." Charlie said. "My favourite."

Sark looked at her. "You say that about them all." He said dryly.

"True." Charlie agreed. "I'm just gifted, because I love my job."

I smiled at the banter between the two, before turning back to my mother. "How many guards are we looking at?" I asked her.

"No more than fifteen. Probably ten." Irina said. "Sloane won't want a lot of people near him at the moment."

"Easy enough then." I said. "When do we leave?"

"In two hours." She replied.

I nodded at her words, and then sighed. I shot a look at Julian, and he nodded slightly. I guessed, now would be as good a time as any to break our new. I just hope that since we were about to take down the Covenant, bloodshed would be kept to a minimum.

"Mom, Dad," I began. "I have some news."

"Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling in my gut?" Dad asked no one in particular.

"Oh, hush Jack." My mother said absently. "Let's hear what she has to say first."

I shot another glance at Sark, just as his hand gripped mine under the table. I was pleased to notice his palm was slightly damp, as if he was as nervous as me. And, I have to say, admitting I loved a wanted criminal to the CIA was far easier than telling my parents I wanted to marry him. Oh, Lord, what had I gotten myself into?

Sark squeezed my hand reassuringly, just as I caught Will's amused expression. It seemed, since he already knew of my engagement, he was quite happy to sit back and enjoy the fireworks. I glared at him, before turning back to my parents.

I let my breath out slowly. "Julian and I are engaged." I said bluntly.

"Shit." My father said. "When?"

Then he glared at mom, who was sitting back with an amused look on her face. "Did you know about this?" he demanded.

"No more than you did." Irina said. "But I had a suspicion it would happen eventually, just not this soon."

"I know what you mean." Dad replied, sighing.

I narrowed my eyes at the two of them. "You don't sound as surprised as you should." I said. "So what aren't you telling me?"

Irina sighed. "I always thought that the two of you would work well together." She said. "So I am not that surprised that you have chosen to spend your life with him as well."

Now it was my turn to sigh. "Why do parents always know everything?" I asked Sark.

"I have yet to figure that one out myself." He replied dryly.

I looked at the rest of table. Will was still watching everything, an amused smiled on his face. Irina was smiled happily, and my father was nodding, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Congratulations." He said.

Charlie, on the other hand was looking faintly annoyed. "Are you going to show us, or what?" she snapped.

I brought my hand up from under the table and showed her. "Awesome!" she cried.

"Yes." I told her, giving Sark a smile. "It is."

* * *

It was late evening before we got to Tuscany. I sat in the helicopter taking us to Sloane's villa, and couldn't help but smile. I was finally going to take Arvin Sloane down – and I couldn't loose this time. The air was mild as it whipped at my hair, and I was dressed in SWAT black and armed to the teeth.

Sark sat close beside me, dressed in the same. He had been quiet for the past hour, as had I, getting ready for what we were about to do. Opposite us, Charlie and Will were in deep conversation. I snuggled closer to Sark and smiled softly as his arms came around me. I treasured the moment of tenderness, because I knew that it would soon be time to us to put our masks back on and become the hard, highly-skilled operatives we were.

I felt a pang of sadness as I thought that, but knew it would be true. But it couldn't be helped. I had learnt a long time ago, that you couldn't show any emotions to your enemies, because they would not hesitate to use them against you. _Never let them see you bleed_, my father had once told me. The words had always stayed with me, as had the truth behind them.

I sighed, for once in my life, putting the bad guys second. I just wanted to spend another week with Sark, not worrying about the world or the CIA. Just us. As if Sark knew what I felt, his arms tightened around me and he pulled me closer. I turned in his embrace so I was facing him, and gave him a brief kiss. He kissed me back with a gentle tenderness, tinged with a little regret. He knew, that just as I did, we could not show Sloane how much we meant to each other.

"We're here." The pilot's voice yelled over the dull thumping of the rotor blades.

Sark got up and nodded, indicating to the pilot that we were ready to go. Will practiced movements, Sark and I threw out the ropes from the sides of the chopper, before quickly repelling down. It took seconds for us to reach the ground and have our weapons out, watching for anyone on guard.

We saw no one, and heard the dull thud of Will and Charlie hitting the ground behind us. The pilot cut the ropes, and they followed us down, before he left. We were alone now, armed and standing outside the villa of the man I hated most in the world. Time to do what we came here to do.

But before I could do anything, Sark came up to me and grabbed me by the jacket. He gave me a fierce, but brief kiss. "Be careful, Syd." He said.

"You, too, Julian." I replied, briefly cupping his cheek.

Then I turned, my face hardening into a mask of purpose and anger. "Let's go." I said to Will and Charlie. "We have a terrorist to stop."


	18. Confrontation with Sloane

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long guys, but it was Christmas. Merry Christmas to everyone! I hope you had a great day!

Cheeky.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

The wind teased my hair as I crept forward, keeping to the shadows. Charlie was beside me, gun in hand and guarding my back. Will and Sark had gone to the other side of the villa, ready to bust through the back door. I stopped as soon as I found the small junction box – which just handily controlled the power to the security system.

Charlie moved forward as I stepped back. She, too, was dressed like me in all-black, except she wore a bandanna on her head, hiding her blonde hair. She flashed me a grin as she opened the junction box. It seemed that Charlie knew security systems – and how to disable them.

Five minutes later, the lights within the villa suddenly went off, plunging everything into darkness. I blinked a little as my eyes adjusted to the faint moonlight, and started forward once more. Behind me, I heard Charlie's voice whisper into her comm. "Security system disabled. Meet you inside."

"Copy that." Sark's voice replied.

Charlie turned to me and raised an eyebrow. I just grinned predatorily in return. Time to go. I vaulted over the low wall in front of me, in a graceful movement and ran across the open lawn. Charlie was right behind me. Not needing to hide our presence, as Sloane already knew someone was out here, I shot out a nearby window and burst through.

Since inside was as dark as outside, I didn't need to wait for my eyes to adjust, and easily recognised I was in a small, but empty, office. I moved to the side as Charlie hit the ground beside me.

The two of us moved to stand on either side of the open doorway, waiting for the guards that would inevitably been drawn by my earlier gunshot. Elsewhere, I heard another small burst of gunfire, and knew Will and Sark had found some guards. A slight sound in the corridor just beyond us caught my attention. Seconds later, three guards burst into the room. I shot one twice in the back, before shooting the second as he spun. I glanced over at Charlie and noticed she had already taken out the third.

She nodded to me and the two of us moved into the corridor, wary for more guards. Recalling the blue prints I had memorised on the flight over, I headed left, then right, winding my way towards the centre of Sloane's villa and hopefully Sloane himself.

I was firmly focused on my task. Nothing escaped my attention; no sound, no movement. But despite that, the guards still eluded us as we moved further into Sloane's domain. Finally, I found what I was looking for: the door to Sloane's lab. Sark and Will appeared just as we did. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My gut felt tight with nerves. Why did I feel like I was about to meet my destiny?

Sark carefully walked up to the electronic lock and punched in the code that opened the door. I don't know how my mother had gotten that code, and I'm not sure I wanted to. Charlie and Will slipped down the stairs to secure the lab. Just before we followed, Sark put a hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." I said, smiling slightly, burying my apprehension. "I'm fine."

Sark nodded, but I got the feeling he didn't believe me. Together, the two of us crept down the stairs and into Sloane's lab. Rambaldi artefacts covered the large benches that wrapped around the room. Some I recognised; other's I didn't.

On the large bench in the centre of the room was a large machine that looked like something out of a horror movie. You know, like the one that made Frankenstein's monster live? I shuddered as I looked at it, knowing that without a doubt it was the machine I had come to destroy – Rambaldi's greatest work.

Suddenly Sark pivoted and fired his gun. As I had been staring at the machine before me, two guards had entered the lab. I cursed myself for not hearing them. Sark turned to me after the two guards were dead. "I'll take care of the rest." He said, meaning the guards we could all hear coming. "Do what you have to do, Syd."

I nodded, before reaching up and giving Sark a soft kiss. "Go." I said.

He gave me a soft smile, before turning and moving towards the stairs. "I'll come with you." Will said, following him.

Sark just nodded.

I turned back to the machine and stared at it. Why was it so special? And, as I stared, I began to realise why. This machine, known simply as 'Rambaldi's knowledge' was supposed to be his greatest work. And I knew why. Rather than Frankenstein's monster being given life, this machine would give Arvin Sloane all of Rambaldi's knowledge. But, I smiled grimly, the result would be much the same. A monster would be unleashed upon the world, only he would have the knowledge of an ancient genius and prophet downloaded into his brain.

I felt anger begin to heat my blood as I continued to stare at it and finally began to understand the prophecy. Rambaldi had been right to fear me, for I would destroy his greatest work; his rebirth. But I don't think he ever truly understood my reasons. It's true that my hatred for Arvin Sloane had led me here, but it was my fear and anger about what he would use the knowledge for that would lead to its destruction. The knowledge of Rambaldi was not meant to live again.

"This woman will render the greatest power unto utter desolation." I quoted softly.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"Nothing." I replied.

"So, how are we going to destroy this, then?" she asked.

I looked around the lab. Spotting a bunch of wires and a small power supply, I got an idea. "This is like an ancient computer, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess so." Charlie replied.

"Then a surge of power should effectively wipe its memory, shouldn't it?"

Charlie smiled. "Yeah. It should wipe Rambaldi's knowledge clean away."

"Good, help me with this, will you?"

Together, the two of us hooked up the power supply to Rambaldi's device. It only took a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, I flipped the switch. "Here goes." I muttered.

Sparks and electricity began running all over the machine and there was a loud noise as something exploded in both the device and the power supply. I turned away and covered my face until everything was quiet once more. "That seems to have done it." Charlie remarked.

"I'd still feel better if it was nothing more than dust." I replied.

"Well, we could do that."

"Really?"

"Sure." Charlie said. "I've got some C4 and the door's re-enforced."

"Then do it."

A minute later, Charlie had laid and wired the C4 to blow up the device. "Let's go." She said, dusting her hands on her pants.

I nodded and the two of us jogged up the stairs and out of the lab. The corridor was deserted when we entered, aside from a single dead body – a silent testimony that Sark was guarding our backs. WE shut the lab door and I nodded to Charlie. Nodding back, she pressed the detonator.

We heard the muffled thud of the explosion and watched the door bulge slightly. I sighed with relief, letting go of some of the tension I hadn't known I was under. "It's done." I said.

"Yes, it is." Charlie agreed. "Now let's go and find Julian and Will."

* * *

My gut began to tighten as I walked towards the centre of Sloane's domain. Each step closer I took intensified the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong.

Coming to a corner, I stopped at the sound of slightly raised voices beyond. Both of them sounded familiar, and I heard Sloane's voice trying to calm down his companion. I frowned, trying to place the second voice. It was very familiar. Then I had it. Lindsay. So, the son of a bitch was here was he?

I peered around the corner, keeping close to the wall. And what I was shocked me. I ducked back around the corner and shut my eyes. How could I have been so stupid? Sloane hadn't stayed alive this long with the amount of enemies he has by being stupid. This whole damn thing had been a trap.

There were at least as many as ten bodyguards in the large room beyond. But that wasn't what was stopping me. What was stopping me, was the sight of Will and Sark on the knees in the centre of the room, hands behind their heads and guns pointed at them. I felt something squeeze around my heart as I watched the man I loved in danger. The feeling was followed by a slow feeling of anger. How could they?

"You might as well come out, Sydney." Sloane's voice called to me. "I know you're there."

I glanced at Charlie and gestured for her to stay hidden. As I did, I heard the ominous echo of a safety being removed and a bullet being chambered. I suppressed a shiver and glanced back around. Sloane was now holding a gun to Will's head.

"Although, I must congratulate you on seducing Sark to become an agent for the CIA." Sloane continued, almost conversationally.

With a final glance at Charlie, I stepped around the corner, my gun plainly seen in my hand, but pointed towards the floor. I was wary, but I knew that pointing the gun at Sloane and pulling the trigger – like I so desperately wanted to do – would end badly. So, instead, I just stood there, seething. That bastard…

"Ah, Sydney. It's good to see you." Sloane said when he saw me.

I turned my cold gaze on him. "I can't say I feel the same way." I said. "Particularly since you have a gun to Will's head."

"Well," Sloane replied. "I had to use someone you actually cared about as a hostage, didn't I?"

I couldn't help it, but my lips twitched into a smirk. Sark must have caught it, because he smirked in return. There was so much Sloane didn't know about me. And I took great pleasure in knowing that.

"We don't have time for this!" Lindsay exploded from beside Sloane.

"I couldn't agree more." I agreed.

"Shut up!" Lindsay snarled.

Sloane gestured to two of the men. "Please relieve Miss Bristow of her weapons." He snapped. "And you, shoot him if she moves."

The latter was said to a third man, who came to stand next to Will. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, Sydney."

During our short conversation, I had counted the men guarding Sloane and noticed there was only seven – not as many as I had originally thought. Not a lot, being that there were four of us, but enough. Sark, I saw, was ready to move, his hand inches from his back-up gun – which they hadn't found. Not that I really expected them to. Sark always had a few tricks up his sleeve.

What happened next, occurred in the space of a few seconds. It was almost as if time had slowed down, letting me notice all the details around me as soon as I saw them. As soon as the first of the two men reached me, I snapped my gun up and fired. The man fell, dead. I grabbed the other while he stared in shock and used him as a shield in case any of the other guards fired – which, inevitably they did.

In the same moment, Sark threw himself forward and yanked out his spare gun, shooting two of the guards around him in quick succession.

From behind me, Charlie shot the man guarding Will right between the eyes. Before staying where she was, partially hidden by the corner, and picking off the remaining guards.

I tossed aside the now dead guard and drew a second gun out from the holster in the small of my back. I began to run forward, dodging the bullets being fired in my direction.

Sloane and Lindsay ran out of the room.

Will threw himself forward, rolled and came up with one of the guards' discarded guns in his hand.

Sark shot another guard.

I bolted past Sark as time began to speed up again. He quickly fell into step behind me, shooting a guard to my left. We left Will and Charlie to mop up the rest of the guards and took off after Sloane and Lindsay. They were headed in the direction of the roof, so my only guess was that there was a helicopter pad up there – and a helicopter on the way. Sloane always had an escape route.

They weren't going to make it to that helicopter. I'd make sure of that. I sprinted up a flight of stairs, right on their tail. Every now and then I'd take aim and shoot, but none of my bullets seemed to hit them. We reached the top floor of Sloane's villa, just as I ejected my empty clip and slammed a new one home.

"Sloane!" I yelled.

But he was gone once more. My legs began to burn as I put on another burst of speed, but part of me no longer felt it, nor the breathes rasping in and out of my lungs. My world had drawn down to one thing: killing Sloane.

Sark was a step behind me as we raced up the final flight of stairs and burst out onto the roof, seconds behind Sloane and Lindsay. Then time seemed to slow again. I saw Sloane pivot towards me and noticed the painful and sorrowful expression in his eyes. I saw the gun come up to point at me, but it was as if the air had turned to honey…I just couldn't move fast enough.

The loud echoing sound of a shot being fired jolted me from whatever daze I was in, just as I felt something heavy slam into my side. Beside me, Sark let out a sharp gasp. Then we were falling to the hard concrete. "Julian!" I cried, as my body slammed into the concrete.

I turned to Sark, tears filling my eyes. My brain had finally processed what had happened. Sloane had tried to shoot me, but had shot Sark instead when Julian had pushed me out of the way. I would kill that bastard…but right now I needed to make sure Sark was alright. I simply ignored everything else; Sloane, Lindsay, the dull thumping of an approaching chopper…

Sark let out a groan and turned to me as I knelt beside him. He winced. "It just nicked me." He said. "Go get the bastard."

Seeing the truth in his eyes, I nodded and gave him a brief kiss just to reassure me. I needed no further reminder to make sure Arvin Sloane died painfully. I stood and turned. I looked at where Sloane stood, looking at me in faint surprise and felt my face harden into a look of cold hatred.

"You do care…" Sloane muttered softly, almost to himself.

"You tried to kill me."

My words seemed to jolt Sloane out of his daze. He brought his gun up to fire again, but I was faster. I shot him once through the hand, making him drop the gun, before I shot out his knee so he wouldn't be going anywhere.

Sloane crumpled to the rooftop like a sack of wet meat. He let out a sharp cry of pain as each bullet tore through him. With every appearance of being calm, I walked over to where Sloane lay, and pointed my gun at his head. I felt the slow burning of hatred consuming me.

"Sydney…" Sloane began when he saw me. "You can't win. Bars can only keep me for so long…"

"What makes you think you will live another moment?" I asked him.

Sloane smirked at me, despite the lines of pain on his face. "You can't shoot anyone in cold blood, Sydney. Especially not me. It always was your flaw."

I smiled at him, but I knew the smile was totally devoid of warmth or mercy. "Oh, but I can." I said softly. "Say your prayers, Sloane. You'll need them where you're going."

And just like that I fired twice, shooting Sloane right between the eyes. It was over. I needed it to be over. Arvin Sloane was dead.

I turned my cold gaze and my gun towards Lindsay. "Don't move." I told him. "And I might just let you live."

As I watched, Lindsay gasped in shock and almost wet himself. How pathetic.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Sark was patched up, the bullet causing no more harm than a deep gash, we were all back in Ireland, and the CIA had received an anonymous tip-off, leading to the discovery of a dead Arvin Sloane and Robert Lindsay bound and gagged.

I sat on my bed, gazing blankly at the pale blue walls. I had retreated here as soon as I could…my hatred for Sloane had fled the moment I killed him, leaving an empty feeling inside of me. It was almost as if I had shut down.

"Sydney." Sark voice broke into my thoughts.

I glanced up jerkily. I hadn't even heard him come in. "Leave me alone." I told him, my voice sounding hollow even to my ears.

Sark didn't say anything. He just walked over and sat beside me, drawing me into his arms. The moment his arms closed around me, the tears began to slip down my face. Shakily, I turned toward him, holding him as he held me, and sobbed into his shoulder.

I let the tears pour out as Sark simply held me. Tears for my father and my mother, my friends, all Sloane's victims over the years…and tears for me. I cried for my lost innocence and the grief over having finally lost the man who had been so much to me. Friend, father-figure, hated enemy, betrayer and traitor. Even as I hated him, I had loved him too, in a way. And now he was finally dead. It was both a relief and a sadness.

Gradually the tears stopped, and I dried my eyes. I looked up at Julian. "Thank you." I whispered.

He smiled at me, slightly sad. "I know what it's like, Syd." He replied softly. "I know what it feels like."

Gently, I reached up and pressed my lips to his, kissing him tenderly as he soothed my soul, and I like to think, as I soothed his too.


	19. A Meeting and a Wedding

Author's Note: Happy New Year guys. And God bless all those affected by the devastating tsunamis around the world.

Cheeky.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

I smiled slightly at the guard behind the desk, before slipping of my sunglasses. Two days had passed since my confrontation with Sloane, and here I was standing in the middle of the lobby of the JTF. "Director Dixon is expecting us." I told the guard.

"And you are?" the guard asked.

"Sydney Bristow and Julian Sark."

He nodded, a surprised expression on his face, but let us through. Dixon had made it known that Sark and I were not to be harmed or arrested. He'd wanted to see us, at the JFT (I'm not sure why), but had not revealed Sark's status as an agent – or mine as his handler.

Sark slipped his hand into mine as we crossed to the elevator. The second the doors shut, I turned to Sark, a grin spreading across my face. "Did you see his expression?" I asked. "Man, I can't wait to see everyone else's now!"

"Really?" Sark asked, amused.

"Yeah." I walked towards him and slipped my arms around his waist. He was looking particularly sexy today in his black suit. "Sydney Bristow wanted terrorist. Strolling right through the JFT – and accompanied by Julian Sark."

Sark chuckled. "Aren't you rubbing their noses in it?" he asked, teasingly.

"Of course." I replied. "A girl's got to have fun somehow."

Sark's eyes began to heat as he gazed at me. "I can think of a few other things that are fun." He said.

I looked at him and couldn't help but breathe in sharply. Damn, that man was gorgeous! And all mine. "Later." I said, fighting temptation. "Business first."

I dragged my eyes away from him just as the elevator doors opened. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the offices of the Joint Task Force. And my friends and colleagues angry and condescending stares.

Silence fell abruptly as everyone caught a glimpse of me. _Well, let them look_, I thought stubbornly. _Let them see how good I look_. And I knew I looked good. I was dressed in black, like Sark, and my hair fell loose around my face, my fringe falling slightly over one eye. I wore the Italian stilettos Sark had given me, and a tight black dress under a suit jacket. The only jewellery I wore was the ruby ring Sark had given me on my right hand, my engagement ring on my left and a simple pair of gold earrings that Dad had given me for my birthday a few years before.

"Sydney?" came Vaughn's incredulous voice.

"Yes, Vaughn?" I replied coolly, turning to face him as he walked up.

"What are you doing here?"

"We came to see Marcus." Sark said, knowing that by using Dixon's first name, he would really annoy Vaughn.

"Why?" Vaughn demanded, surprised and annoyed.

"Because he asked us to come." I pushed past Vaughn and continued towards Dixon's office.

Then I grinned and shot Sark a mischievous glance. Pausing, I turned back to Vaughn. "Vaughn." I said. "While I see you, I would like to formally like to invite you and Lauren to Julian's and my wedding. I'll let you know the details soon."

I turned my back on Vaughn as he stared at me in shock with his mouth open and continued walked to Dixon's office. Beside me, Sark chuckled softly. "Don't you think that was a little cruel, Syd?"

"Yes." I agreed. "It was. But he has to learn that I can move on with my life too."

"And you have." Sark said. "Quite successfully."

"Yeah. And I don't regret a moment of it."

Reaching Dixon's office, I raised a hand and knocked on his closed door. "Come in." he called from inside.

I opened the door and walked in, surprised at how nervous I felt. "Dixon." I greeted my old friend warmly.

"Syd." Dixon returned with a smile. "Julian."

I glanced around the room and stopped in surprise when I saw the second man in the room. "May I introduce the Deputy Director of the CIA, Walter Calloway?"

"Sir." I greeted formally.

Behind me, Sark closed the door. "Mr. Calloway." He nodded to the Deputy Director.

"I have to congratulate the both of you on what you have done. Thanks to your efforts we have possession of many new Rambaldi artefacts and the Covenant has been effectively destroyed." Calloway said. "Not to mention Miss Bristow's assistance in destroying the Alliance and SD-6."

Calloway paused and smiled. "And Mr. Sark's help in destroying K-directorate, although he wasn't working for us at the time."

Sark smiled at Calloway, obviously amused. "My pleasure." He said.

I smiled, before glancing between Dixon and the Deputy Director. "Can I ask why you wanted to see us?" I asked.

"That was my doing." Calloway said. "I wanted to offer you a job."

"A job?" I asked, both curious and confused.

"Yes." Calloway smiled. "I want you to head up a new covert task force designed to take down terrorist organisations from both the inside and outside. Naturally, Mr. Sark will be your second in command."

"And if I don't want to?" I asked cautiously.

Looking faintly disappointed, Calloway nodded. "Then we walk out of here and tell everyone you've both been working for the CIA the whole time."

"And if I accept?"

Now Calloway looked amused. "Then as far as anyone knows, you were never here and you use resources unavailable to other CIA agents – like your rogue status for example – to combat terrorism."

I turned to Sark. "Think you could stomach working for me, Julian?"

Sark raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. "I think I could be persuaded." He said.

I turned back to Calloway. "Do I get to pick my own team?"

"Three other agents and two technicians." Calloway replied.

I grinned. "Then I think you have a deal, Mr. Calloway."

He grinned back at me. "Congratulations, Director Bristow." He said.

"Congratulations, Syd." Dixon echoed.

"Thanks."

* * *

I was busy for the next few days, arranging the agents I had requested for my new covert department. I still couldn't believe it. I was now _Director_ Bristow. Although, I would still be working in the field – it was one of the conditions that Calloway had outlined and I had wanted. I wasn't ready to give up that yet.

But, finally, everything seemed to be ready. Thank goodness. After everything I had been through over the past few months…if not years, I needed to take a little holiday. Which was why I was joyfully still snuggled under the blankets at one in the afternoon. I smiled to myself. It felt so good.

"All right, Syd. That's enough." Sark's faintly annoyed voice called. "Time to get up."

I didn't reply, instead burrowing further into the blankets. I wasn't getting up.

I snarled in surprise when Sark just dragged the blankets off me, and my nice warm skin was greeted by the cool air of the afternoon. "Julian!" I snapped.

He smiled at me, caught between annoyance and amusement. "Come on, Syd. Get up."

"No." I replied stubbornly. "Now give me back my blanket."

"No." Sark replied, in the same tone I had used. "Get up."

Sighing when I didn't move, Sark dropped the blankets and walked towards the wardrobe. Within seconds, I had snatched them up again and was safely snuggled underneath. I heard Sark give an exasperated chuckle a second later. "Syd." He said.

"What?" came my muffled reply.

I felt the mattress sink slightly as Sark sat down. With quick hands he pulled the blankets down to reveal my face. "Get up."

I groaned. "Give me five minutes."

"Now, Syd." Sark said firmly. "We have a plane to catch."

His words caught my attention. "A plane?" I asked, sitting up. "Where are we going?"

"The Caribbean." Sark replied.

"What for?"

Sark turned and smirked at me. "Our wedding."

"What?!" I exploded, leaping out of bed to tackle him when he danced out of the way. "You didn't just say what I think you did, did you?"

"Don't you want to get married?" Sark asked in a mild tone, although there was an edge to his expression.

"Of course I do!" I snapped, as I spun and began to pace. "But I also would've like to help plan my own wedding!"

Sark smiled, now more amused than anything, I think. "You did. I asked you, remember?"

"You mean those vague questions when I was half-asleep or busy?" I asked.

"See," he grinned. "I did ask."

I let out a sigh, and threw my hands up. "Fine." I snapped.

Sark chuckled. "Don't worry." He said. "If you don't like it, we can just do it again."

I turned to look at him, and saw the seriousness behind the joke. I shook my head. "Only you would say that, Julian." I said.

I sighed again. "How long do we have before the plane leaves?"

"An hour." Sark replied. "And don't worry. I have everything under control."

"That's what I'm afraid of." I muttered.

* * *

I stared out of the small tent set up at the end of a small beach. I smiled to myself. I turned out that Sark owned a small island in the Caribbean – and had deemed it the perfect place to marry the woman of his dreams. Although, as I stared out at the pure white sand and tropical blue sea, I couldn't find fault with the choice. I was gorgeous.

I still couldn't believe it. Everyone I cared about was here…except for Francie. I felt sad that she couldn't be here to enjoy this day with me. But I liked to think she was watching down on me anyway.

Sighing softly, I ducked my head back into the tent and walked back to stare at myself in the mirror. I shook my head. Even my wedding dress was prefect. Long and simple, it hugged my waist and hips, before falling straight down to mid calf. I wore my hair loose, with a simple white hibiscus behind my left ear.

"If Julian thinks he can run my life like he ran this wedding, he's got another thing coming!" I muttered.

"Good." My father commented. "I'd hate to see otherwise."

I turned to him and noticed the amused gleam in his eye. I narrowed mine in response. "I bet you think this is funny."

My father simply smiled. "Well, we did think you were fairly busy arranging your new task force and didn't want to interrupt."

I rolled my eyes. "I still can't believe that you, Julian and mom arranged my wedding behind my back!"

"Hey, I helped too!" Charlie said.

I rolled my eyes. "Who didn't?" I snapped.

Then I sighed. "I'd be more annoyed if it hadn't been so perfect." I added.

"I know." Charlie said, walking over to pat me on the shoulder. "Which is probably why we're all still alive."

I laughed slightly at her words. "Guess so." I answered.

Charlie was beautiful in her simple dress. Over the past week I had grown closer to her. We shared many of the same traits and interests. And as a result, I had asked her to be my bridesmaid, as soon as I had found out about the wedding. I had asked my mother and Shannon too, but Shannon hadn't wanted to be part of the fuss as she called it – and my mother was best man, so she couldn't do it.

The dress was a pale gold, which made her blonde hair and blue eyes stand out all the more. It also made her look tall and elegant. There was a pale yellow hibiscus behind her left ear. I have to admit, I was slightly jealous.

My dad walked over to me and gave me a hug, almost as if sensing my thoughts. "You look beautiful, Syd." He said.

"You do." Charlie agreed. "I'm so jealous."

I laughed out loud at her words. What were they, telepathic? "I was just thinking the same about you." I admitted to her.

She smiled and reached over to hug me too. "I knew there was a reason I like you!" she said. "Aside from the fact you can beat up my brother."

I grinned, before turning back to my father. "And you look good, too, Dad."

And he did. The pale blue shirt brought out his tan (newly acquired through having spent a day or so on the island overseeing preparations) and he smile more these days. I guess he had more things to enjoy these days. A pair of white pants rolled up at the ends completed the outfit. He was barefoot too, just like Charlie and me. The reason being that the ceremony was going to be held in the middle of the beach. And I wouldn't change a bit of it.

Charlie glanced up as my mother slipped inside the tent. "We're about to start." She said.

"Well, I'll got take my place then." Charlie said.

She grabbed her small bouquet of frangipanis and walked over to me. "I'll see you out there." She said, giving my hand a quick squeeze.

I nodded. "Yeah. See you soon."

I turned to my mother as Charlie slipped out of the tent. She, too, looked beautiful. She wore a similar dress to Charlie's in pale gold. Her hair was loose and there was a hibiscus behind her ear. But she held no flowers. Looking at her, I was surprised at just how similar we looked. I know I shouldn't be by now, but I was all the same. It seemed I really was my mother's daughter.

"Syd," she said in her softly lilting voice. "I just wanted to say that I love you. No matter what you may think."

"I know that." I told her softly. "And I love you, too, despite everything."

Mom smiled at my words. "I also wanted to tell you that I'm proud of you and the woman you've become." Then her words took on a harder edge. "And I'm trusting you to take care of my boy." She added. "Somehow, in spite of everything, I actually like him. So keep him safe."

"I promise." I told her.

She smiled. "Good." She said. "Now, wait a few minutes before he come out. You should here the cue in the music."

She walked to the small slit in the tent's fabric that served as a door, before turning back. "She's grown up just like you, Jack." She said. "You raised her better than I ever could have."

My dad smiled softly at her words. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Irina." He replied.

With a brief, almost wistful smile, my mother slipped out of the tent. "What was that all about?" I asked my father.

"Nothing." He replied. "Are you ready?"

"I think I was born ready for this." I replied, grabbing my bouquet. "So, yes, I'm ready."

My dad kissed me on the cheek. "I love you, Syd. And I'm glad you've finally found a man strong enough to be there through everything with you."

I was reminded, briefly, of Vaughn and his new wife. But I no longer felt sadness when I thought of that. I knew that it had hurt me, but that was in the past. Now, all I felt, was simple acceptance. Vaughn had just found someone to love. Just like I had.

As the soft strains of music drifted into the tent, my father offered me his arm. "It's time." He said.

"Finally." I said with feeling as I took his offered arm. I finally acknowledged the feeling of impatience that was curling in my gut.

The two of us stepped out into the bright sunlight. I felt it warm my skin as I scrunched the sand between my toes. The air had the tang of salt and scent of frangipani. A faint breeze ruffled my hair and made my dress slither about my legs. I felt a grin slide over my face and joy warm my heart. Perfect. Today was perfect.

As I began the slow walk down the makeshift aisle between the small parties of guests, my eyes locked onto Julian's. He stood a few meters in front of me next to my mother and the priest. Charlie stood near him on the priest's other side.

He was gorgeous, standing there with the breeze ruffling his blonde hair. The sunlight made it look almost golden. His white shirt was open at the neck and his sleeves rolled up, revealing his strong forearms. I felt a sudden urge to run the rest of the way and fling myself into his arms, but I held myself back. I had to at least appear serious for a little while.

And then, finally, I was there. My father kissed me on the cheek and slipped back to stand next to Charlie. I reached out and took Julian's hand, as the priest began the ceremony. Vaguely, I heard his musical voice repeat the speech, but my eyes were only for my future husband. We had been through so much together. And would go through a lot more. But I loved him and he loved me and that's all that mattered.

Before long, it was time for our vows. Julian looked at me, holding both my hands in his. "Sydney, from the first moment I saw you, you intrigued me. And since then, you've frustrated me, ignored me, hurt me, soothed me and given me peace, trust and your love. And I wouldn't change a second of it, because it led me here, to this moment. I love you Syd, and I always will. Let me spend the rest of my life showing you."

I felt tears slip down my face as his words. They warmed my heart and wove themselves into my soul. And I forgot all the pretty words and phrases I had thought to say, and instead spoke straight from the heart.

"Julian, for as long as I've known you, you've had my respect and my admiration, if grudgingly at first. You were there when I had no one left to give me strength. You saw me at my worst and ugliest and never backed away. You've been there to guard my back and light my way. And you would die to save me. I know that. Just like I know that I love you with all my heart and soul. There is only and was only you. Forever and always."

"Do you, Julian Alexei Sark, take this woman to be you wife?" the priest said, as Irina handed Sark a ring.

"I do." Sark said, slipping the ring onto my finger.

"And do you, Sydney Anne Bristow, take this man to be your husband?"

"I do." I replied, slipping the ring Charlie handed me onto Julian's finger.

"Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife." The priest said, sending a shiver of delight up my spine. "You may kiss the bride."

Smiling at me, Sark kissed me – although it was a lot briefer than I would have liked. But, I suppose you have to make concessions when you have an audience. Sark pulled away and slipped an arm about my waist as we turned to our guests. "May I present Mr. and Mrs. Sark?" the priest said from behind us.

I grinned and let out a shout of joy when I heard those words. I was married to the man I loved! Nothing on Earth could ever be better than this feeling. Laughing with joy, I turned and through myself into Sark's arms. "We're married!" I whispered in his ear.

His laughter joined mine, just a joyous. "Yes, we are."

Then together, we turned and walked towards the guests gathered before us to share our happiness. "Let the party begin!" Charlie said, slinging an arm around each of our shoulders. "Congratulations brother." She said, kissing Sark on the cheek before he disappeared.

Over the next hour, Julian and I received congratulations from Will, my parents, Marshall, Carrie, Dixon and his wife, Weiss, Shannon, Andrew and Kendall. We danced and talked and ate. We cut the cake and drank champagne as the sun sank closer to the horizon, turning the sky a deep gold.

I smiled as I sat and watched the small bonfire grow in height. The breeze still smell of sea and wildflowers, and I breathed deeply as I soaked in the beauty and joy of my wedding day. My thoughts were jolted, however, when Vaughn spoke from behind me. "Syd?" he asked.

I turned, glad he had come but apprehensive over what he would say. "Yes, Vaughn?" I answered.

"I wanted to apologise about how I've acted over the past weeks." He said. "I was petty and cruel and I really am sorry. I guess it took me longer to let go of what we shared than I thought. I want you to know I'm happy you've found someone to love like I love Lauren. I hope one day we can go back to being friends."

I smiled softly at him. "We already are friends, Vaughn." I told him. "We always were. And I have to apologise too. I've been petty and cruel myself. I'm sorry for that."

Vaughn smiled. "Thanks, Syd. And congratulations."

"Thanks, Vaughn."

At that moment, Lauren wandered up. "Sydney." She said warmly. "Congratulations on the wedding. It was beautiful. I wish joy and happiness in your marriage, although you probably won't need it. That man's crazy about you."

I smiled at her, touched by her words. She really was a nice woman, and I haven't given her enough credit for that. "Thank you, Lauren." I said. "And since I missed your wedding, I wish you congratulations too. I'm sorry I missed it."

"Well, if you'll excuse us, Sydney." Lauren said. "My husband owes me a dance."

I laughed. "Of course." I said, and watched in amusement as Lauren dragged Vaughn toward the makeshift dance floor.

I sighed contentedly when I felt Sark's arms slip around me. I leaned back against his chest and watched the sunset in a blaze of glory. "What do you say we bid everyone a fond goodnight?" Sark asked after a moment.

"I'd say that's a very good idea." I replied. "But will they be alright?"

"Shannon and Andrew will take care of it." Sark said. "Beside, their all trained spies. They can handle it. And I want some time alone with my new wife."

I turned in his arms to stare into his beautiful blue eyes, gazing at my in tenderness and love. "Lead the way." I said.

Taking my hand, the two of us slipped away, winding our way to the house that overlooked the beach from the top of the small hill. Taking one last glimpse at the party below, I slipped into my husband's arms and into paradise.


	20. A New Beginning

**Chapter Twenty**

I smiled slightly as I gazed out the window at the city beyond. The tall skyscrapers rose up, spearing towards the bright blue sky. I sighed, gathering my thoughts. I heard Sark chuckle behind me as he walked over. "They're on their way up." He told me.

He slid his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. "You'll be fine, Syd." He reassured me. "And I'll be right here with you."

I nodded and sighed, reluctantly moving out of his arms. "Thanks, Julian." I said. "It seems kind of silly for me to be nervous. But I am."

"You'll be fine." He repeated.

"Ma'am, your guests have arrived." Came a voice over my intercom.

I walked over to the head of the large table that took up the centre of the room, before sitting down in the chair at its head. I smoothed down the skirt of my black business suit the calm the end of my nerves, as Sark sat down beside me on my right. I pressed the button on the intercom. "Send them in." I said.

As I watched, five people entered the room and took seats around the table. My new task force: Will, Charlie, Dad, Marshall and Carrie. "Thank you all for coming." I said. "I assume you all know why you're here?"

"Yes." Will smiled. "Ma'am."

"Then you understand we are a covert branch of the CIA, with limited contact because of that. Our job is to take down new threats to national security from both the inside and the outside." I said. "And that Sark is to be considered as much of a leader as me."

Everyone around the table nodded, and Sark looked amused.

"Good." I smiled, flicking a button to display a picture on the projector screen behind me. "Our new enemy calls themselves the Circle. They are taking advantage of the recent gaps made by the destruction of the Covenant to solidify their standing. It's our job to stop them."

"Behind you is a picture of the brains behind the Circle. Marcus Bryant." I continued. "Along with help of four other trusted operatives, he runs the whole organisation. He is our target. Any questions?"

"When do we start?" Charlie asked.

"Right now." I said. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Author's Note: There, it's finished. What did you think? I'd love to hear from you! And thanks to all my loyal readers. You guys rock! I hope you like how it ended.

Cheeky.


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